Nightmares of Immortality
by Mc Parrot
Summary: Not being able to die could drive you mad. Being mad for all eternity is not an option.
1. Chapter 1

**Nightmares of Immortality Part 1**

**Torchwood**

**Summary **Not being able to die could drive you mad. Being mad for all eternity is not an option.

**Authors Note **This is the first time I have written fan fiction in many years, since my X Files days. I have only just discovered Torchwood. It has only just started screening here in New Zealand. We've just had ep 4 –Cyberwoman. I am hooked and Captain Jack is such a wonderful character, with such potential for angst, that I just couldn't help taking him out to play. I like angst, be warned. Captain Jack is also the sexiest thing on two legs and I think I'm in love.

I write and edit for a living and I had forgotten how wonderfully liberating it is to write for the sheer joy of getting a story out of your head. I have however tried to remember the craft of writing and this story should end up as a coherent whole -eventually. I was initially reluctant to post it in pieces before it was finished by decided to do so because it should keep me motivated to finish it.

**Category **Crime/Drama/Angst Jack/Ianto Jack/other/s in later chapters

**Rating M **for violence and adult themes

Edited to add the two paragraphs of the sex scene I had originally left out. Now I have read what some others have categorised as M rated I find my little scene rather tame. (Makes me wonder what they think MA is?) The new bit is right at the end of chapt 1, if that's what you're looking for. Nothing else is changed and from here on (having just posted chapt 2) I will just post it as written. As an aside, if you were writing for any other audience you probably wouldn't add the graphic sex, but with fan fiction anything goes and it is just fun to do it. It doesn't however do anything to further the story which is usually the criteria you use to decide if any scene of any type needs to stay or go. Mind you, ongoing torture probably isn't necessary once you've set the scene either.

Did I mention I like angst? We're going deep and dark here people. So take a deep breathe and proceed to take a dive…. down the hatch

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The manacles pulled him up short as he inadvertently tried to roll over in his sleep. He was pulled back to the reality of the dank cell, the filthy mattress he was lying on and the ever present discomforts of captivity. He was cold, always cold, hungry and thirsty although the thirst bothered him more. His skin was raw in numerous places and bruises over his body were in varying stages of healing.

Curled on his side, conserving as much warmth as possible, his eyes focused on the raw skin showing under the metal cuffs at his wrists. It couldn't be long then before they came for him, to take him to his execution. And there was nothing that he could do to stop them.

As if the thought had conjured the brutes he heard the steps in the corridor. Always the same two. Large, subnormal, human. Biddable – but not by him. And another set of footsteps – he was getting good at this now; after all he'd had months of practise. As he feared, the footsteps stopped outside his cell and keys turned in the locks. Instinctively he cringed back but the chains didn't let him move far. The door flung open and he shut his eyes against the sudden glare, then, before he could even brace himself boots were flying into his body, finding the sore places from yesterday's hammering. His torso flared with pain.

'Enough,' said a familiar oily voice. The blows stopped but he kept his eyes shut. Fear tightened his throat and twisted his gut. The Master was here, and that couldn't be good.

'Good morning Jack,' the Master said pleasantly. 'I've thought of a new one. It must be possible to kill you somehow. I've been thinking about it. It makes an interesting diversion and I need that.'

He heard the manacle chains being detached from the wall. So it wasn't going to happen here then. One at a time all five chains that held him we transferred to the trolley they used to move him around. At no time did he have any chance of stopping the process or of overpowering anyone. He knew this now. He kept his eyes tight shut. He held on to his only defence. _I can't die. I can't die._

'Yes,' said the Master cheerily. 'I think this might be it.' The goons dragged him onto the trolley and then pushed it out into the corridor. 'Of course,' the Master said from behind him, 'If it does work, I will miss it…' His stomach lurched and he fought to control it. '…our little sessions together. They have been very entertaining.'

The trolley ground to a halt in a large echoing place. He knew where he was. He fought against the panic that was rising in him. The Master's voice was nearly drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. The Master been talking for some time but he was beyond comprehending the words. He could hear metallic noises and his imagination could come up with multiple explanations for them. He realised that another sound close at hand was whimpers coming from his own terror closed throat. _I can't die. I can't die. _The mantra filled his head but it didn't help.

A hand grabbed his chin and he jumped with fright. His face was shaken, then slapped, the stinging pain threatening of much worse to come. 'Open your eyes Jack. Look at me.' It was an order to be obeyed and reluctantly he did so. The Master's face filled his field of view. The cold dark eyes were turned up at the corners as the sadistic bastard smiled. 'Although I have enjoyed our sessions – who knew it could be so much fun to kill the same person over and over again, I have to leave this ship now and you are far too dangerous to have aboard, regardless of how well you are chained up. I have been saving this. And I must say; if it doesn't work, then I have had a rather special prison cell built especially. It would be much easier however, and cheaper, to have you dead.

'So,' he said, standing back. 'What do you think? Can you regenerate, or revive or whatever it is you do, if your head is separated from your body? This really will be most interesting.'

The largest goon was standing just behind the Master. He was wearing an executioner's mask – that was a sinister touch – and running a steel along a large antique executioner's axe. His mate was manhandling a wooden chopping block across the floor.

Jack started to scream.

He screamed and fought as they brought the trolley across to the block. He fought as they moved the manacles to tie downs in the floor, positioning him with his head across the block, arms and legs pulled tight. The blood from his struggles was streaming from his wrists and ankles. The manacle around his neck was removed.

He kept screaming as the axe fell. Pain, shocking all encompassing pain filled him, the world tilted crazily, and he couldn't scream. No air moved. Pain - overwhelming. Complete and utter shock. This can't be. His vision dulled.

_I'm dieing._

……..

Heart pounding, his screams ringing in his ears, Jack opened his eyes to the realisation that he **was** alive. Terror was still consuming him and his body responded. Lurching off the bed, tangled in the bed clothes he fell into the bathroom, just making the toilet before gut wrenching heaves ejected everything he'd eaten in the last week.

He clung to the bowl heaving, crying, doing his best to calm himself, tears and snot adding to the mess. He was at Torchwood, at the Hub. He was safe. It was just a dream. Panting and gasping for breath he tried to will himself calm. You're safe. It was a dream. It was a dream. Dry heaving now he even managed to feel slightly amused, this wouldn't be happening if his head was rolling around on the floor. But that wasn't a good thought and for a little while things got worse. Finally the spasms eased and he sank heavily onto the floor. He leaned back against the wall moaning. Pulling his soiled tee shirt carefully over his head he blew his nose on it and found a clean corner to wipe his eyes. He reached over and flushed.

He sat there, breathing, feeling the air move in and out of his lungs. The whole dream had been so disturbing he was reluctant to think about it, but he was so aware of being able to breath. 'Yeah,' he muttered quietly to himself, 'and pleased about being able to vomit too.' Christ, what a way to start the morning.

Using the towel rail to pull himself to his shaky feet he rinsed his mouth and took a tentative sip of water. He was feeling better but he didn't know what to do now. 'It was a dream,' he told himself. 'Just a dream. Go back to bed.' But he'd turned the light on as he'd walked back into his room and his pillow was smeared with goo. He nearly retched again.

He had to get out of here. Sometimes this room was a sanctuary, right now it felt like a fetid cell. Pulling on his running gear as he went, he made his way out of the Hub. He was held up only slightly by the need to do up laces and charged up the stairs like the hounds of hell were after him. Letting himself out into the pre dawn darkness he started to run. Building up speed he was sprinting well before he had left the plaza.

Jack ran. He ran as fast as he could run. He ran until the carbon dioxide build up from his exertion was so great that his muscles could drive him no more. He collapsed against a wall, lungs burning, legs shaking, sucking great gulps of air in as the CO2 flowed out of his body and blessed oxygen flowed in. Even then he only rested until he could move again. The second burst was slightly slower and after one more brief rest he slowed again. The panic was starting to recede and he found his rhythm. He settled into a brisk jog, the blood singing in his veins and his breathe coming in and out with no strain. His vision started to expand and take in the surroundings. He began to notice his environment. It was still dark and it was very cold. Lowering clouds reflected the city lights and there were patches of ice on puddles. His breath, his precious breath, steamed in the cold air.

He kept running. His body was zinging along now, slightly euphoric as the endorphins kicked in. He wondered why he didn't do this more often. He felt great. He felt alive and he suddenly laughed out loud. Then his foot slipped on some ice and he just caught himself before he took a tumble. He was a little more cautious after that. Although just possibly, he thought, a few real grazes might ground him in the now; chase away the memories of dreamt pain.

There were other people starting to appear on the streets, dog walkers and other early joggers. He realised he had no idea where he was but the street was starting to rise as it curved up hill. He was heading roughly north in a part of suburbia with large stand alone houses, a nice area if you liked that sort of thing. An expensive area and the cars parked on the street and the security gates reflected that. There were lights on in some of the houses now. He wondered briefly about the people inside, going about their business; people hearing their alarms ring, getting up, having breakfast, preparing to go out to work, mothers getting children ready for school, the same as they did every morning.

He didn't want that life, never had, but sometimes he longed for the stability, the unawareness these people had of the bad things in life, their belief that the world and their little part of it would go on the way it always had. He of course knew different and sometimes that burden was so hard. How had he become a defender of their way of life?

He had been running a long time and he was tiring rapidly now, his muscles depleted of all energy. The hill became steeper. His run faltered to a walk and panting he became aware of his breathing again.

As he rounded a corner he saw that the road ended just ahead. He'd nearly reached the summit. There was a turning area for cars and just beyond that a small park was set on the hill top. The lightening sky allowed him to see a children's play area near to the road and a path running up through the grass to a small copse of trees right at the top. A white picket fence protected the park and he let himself in through a small gate. Breathing hard he leant on the fence for a moment, turning to look out over the lights of the city. The sky was rapidly lightening to the east, dawn wasn't far off. Sounds again found a place in his consciousness. He could hear traffic, birds waking and water running. He looked around for the water, aware now that his mouth was terribly dry and his throat was sore.

He spotted it, a small stream coming down from the trees above. The water was black in the dim light, gurgling over a rocky bed, barely more than a trickle this high up the hill. He followed it and found the spring only a few feet into the trees. It was completely incongruous to find water at the summit of a hill and he marvelled to see it. The spring itself had been hollowed out slightly and lined with stones to create a small basin of clear dark water. There was an old enamel cup set on a rock beside it. Beside the cup was a wilted posy of wildflowers. It was a peaceful place and Jack knew it for what it was straight away. Kneeling by the spring he dipped two fingers into the pool and welcomed the essence of the place into his being, wiping the cool water across his hot forehead then down his nose. Inadvertently he had made the sign of the cross and smiled to himself as he realised it. That was the way of things wasn't it? The old ways taking on new meanings.

The Rift ran close to the surface here and no doubt many thought it was a place of the Old Folk. The posy was an indication that people still honoured the spirits of this hill, even if it was completely surrounded by suburbia. He was pleased the spring had survived. He took the cup and drank. The water has a slight tang from some mineral in the water but it was clean and good.

Returning the cup he moved back out from the trees and settled himself on a rock. He felt very peaceful now. His level of fatigue indicated he had run a very long way but it felt good. It had beaten the demons from his mind. The sky was taking on that red silver glow that suggested that rain was on the way and he watched as the colour intensified, deeper, darker, more fiery red; focusing on the sky to force out all other thought. But it was cold, far too cold to do that for long, especially dressed in tee shirt and shorts and wet with sweat.

The sun rose, completely hidden by cloud and the city that had seemed magical, shiny and sparkly with its night lights on, now looked grey and drab and ordinary. With a sigh he got up and started to retrace his steps down the hill. Shutting the little gate behind him he made a mental thank you to the place for this brief moment of peace and started back down the road. Walking down hill seemed harder than coming up and stumbling slightly he realised he really had come a long long way. There wasn't however much he could do about it.

He managed to break into a slow jog again, forcing his body to keep going. Ten minutes later he found himself approaching a shopping centre and there he found the answer to how on earth he was going to get home – a taxi.

The taxi wasn't showing its light. In fact it was parked on a double yellow outside a McDonalds and there was no driver. Jack used the car for balance and did some stretches. A few minutes later a round bald man came out of the shop carrying a bag and a coffee. He didn't look best pleased to see Jack.

'Oi. Get off my car.'

'I want a ride.'

'Yeah. Well I'm sorry I'm off. I'm heading home for breakfast.'

'Oh come on.' Jack tried one of his best smiles. 'One more customer. Right into the Bay.'

The driver looked at him critically. 'You got any money?'

'Ah well….' Jack suddenly realised he wasn't carrying anything. 'Yes. Of course I have.'

'Aw come on pretty boy. Where you hiding it? Up your bum? No money, no ride. Sorry.' He unlocked the car and put his breakfast inside.

'Well of course I have money. I just haven't got it with me. If you take me home I can pay you when we get there.' The driver climbed in and made to shut the door. Jack grabbed it and stopped him. 'Look, I'm starting to get really cold. My friend works in the Tourist shop in the Millennium Centre Plaza. Take me there and he'll pay.' He had a brain wave. 'I'll give you his number and you can ring him and check.' He dredged up his best pleaseletmefuckyounow smile and turned it on the guy. It seemed to work. The cabby sighed. He also pulled out his phone. 'Okay. What's his number?' Jack gave him the number that rang through to Ianto's work mobile.

'Hey,' said the driver when the phone was answered. 'You know a tall dark haired guy, talks American? Looks like one of them poofta TV announcers?' Jack snorted. For the first time he noticed that the shorts he had pulled on hours earlier in his panic were actually bright red satin. He hadn't realised he still had them. He'd worn them once, on a Mardi Gras float at Nottinghill Carnival many years ago. No wonder the cabby had called him a pretty boy.

Whatever Ianto said seemed to satisfy the man because he hung up and grunted, 'Get in.' Jack was glad to. He was trembling with fatigue and cold. The driver glanced back at him and muttered, 'Well if your buddy isn't legit, there are other ways to pay,' and Jack tried to look like he thought that that was a really great idea. Ianto had better bloody be there. Mind you, he supposed it wouldn't be too bad if he had to. He'd just close his eyes. A shag was a shag after all. He did hope however, that he wouldn't be asked to perform in the car. Getting down and dirty in the back seat was something he was long past.

The cabby cranked the heat up without being asked and Jack slowly relaxed into the shabby upholstery. He leant his head against the window idly watching the world outside the car go about its business. A man and a child were walking hand in hand wrapped in layers of fuzzy coats and hats. The child, a girl with dark curls escaping from under her orange beanie was smiling up at the man. He had to be her father. She had on pink wellies and a red dress with a pink fake fur coat; a bright spot of incongruous colour on this grey day. He watched in delight as she stamped at the edge of a frozen puddle staring the ice, her hand held tight by her father. Then the car swept past. The little girl's brightness stayed with him. It was as if the sun had come out.

The trip took longer than he thought it would and made him wonder how far he had run. He'd had time to realise that he was ravenously hungry as the cabby ate his Big Mac and inhaled fries. The smell of the coffee was driving him mad. They eventually pulled into the plaza and came to a stop outside the tourist booth. Ianto was just putting his key in the lock, opening the door, and Jack realised that it was still ridiculously early. 'That's my friend,' he told the cabby, somewhat redundantly. Ianto didn't look best pleased to see him.

He got out and saw Ianto's eyes widen as he took in the shorts. 'I've been running,' Jack told him cheerily. He put on a pose.

'Running? In a car?'

'Well, I've always found it a bit of a nuisance to have to plan a route to bring you back. If you just run until you get tired, you can see so much more of the countryside.'

'I see,' Ianto sighed. 'I suppose I'm to pay the man am I?'

'Yes, thank you.' He glanced back at the cabby who was eyeing up Ianto in his crisp suit and tie, obviously wondering just how they fit together. 'Somebody better be going to pay me,' the man said.

On a whim Jack leant in through the open window and kissed the man. 'Sorry the other payment option wasn't available,' he told him quietly. He straightened, struggling to keep a straight face. Sweeping through the door of the shop he called out to Ianto. 'After you've paid the man make me some coffee. I need coffee.' He carried on through to the passage way and along to the lift. 'I'm going for a shower,' he yelled. He knew Ianto would hear him. 'Why don't you come scrub my back?'

Owen was sorting through his glassware, trying to decide which sized flask he might need for his attempt at neutralising tyralian frog venom. He figured that if he knew what neutralised it, he might have a better idea of what it actually did. He was afraid though that it might boil over and contaminate the whole building and he wouldn't want that to happen. It seemed very volatile. He was distracted by the sound of the cog door opening. He'd come in early so as not to be disturbed and so far not even Jack had appeared from his hole. He was a little surprised then to see it was Jack himself coming in through the door. Owen did a double take when he saw what his boss was wearing but it was too early in the morning for his mind to come up with a smart comment. Then his chance was gone as Jack charged through with a cheery grin and disappeared down into his den, presumably to shower or at least get dressed. 'Well I'll be…' Owen muttered. 'Where the hell have you been?' He made a mental note to decide later whether he ought to warn Jack against wearing those shorts in public. Christ, that was disturbing.

Ianto appeared ten minutes later with two coffees. He seemed surprised to see Owen. 'Have you seen him?' he asked cautiously. He left one of the coffees on Jack's desk and came over to see what he was doing.

'Yep,' Owen said. 'Can't decide if that was sex on a stick, or an invite to every gay basher in the city?'

'Especially with that wet tee shirt plastered to his chest.'

'Hmm, well yes. Do I get any coffee?' Owen noticed that Ianto couldn't keep his eyes off Jack's office, waiting obviously for him to pop back out of his hole. 'Has he been tom catting do you think?'

Ianto pondered that. 'No I don't think so. Not dressed like that. Although he said he'd been running but he did come home in a cab.'

Owen thought about it too. 'He was wearing running shoes. He wouldn't go out on the pull wearing running shoes.'

'He didn't have his coat,' Ianto agreed.

'But those shorts…'

'I know,' Ianto groaned. He cocked his head. 'Listen.'

They listened. Singing could be heard coming from Jack's hole. It was a forties show tune and Jack was belting it out. 'The acoustics are really good down there,' Ianto told Owen.

'I didn't want to know that,' Owen assured him. 'but boy, he sure can sing.'

The music changed to a haunting unfamiliar melody whose words weren't quite in English. They song cut off abruptly and Jack's head popped into view. He was flushed from the shower and was towelling his hair with one hand. He jumped fully up, dropped the towel back down the hole and reached for the coffee on the desk in one fluid movement. Thankfully he was fully clothed. Looking up he saw he was being watched and grinned at them.

'Great singing mate,' Owen said.

'Thanks. That was a song my mother used to sing.' He took a sip from the cup and winced slightly. 'I'm starved. Who's joining me for breakfast? Have we got any bacon?'

Half way through breakfast Tosh phoned in sick and Gwen rang to remind them that she wouldn't be in as she was going shopping for furniture with her mother. She sounded as though she desperately wanted to be told she was needed at work but in reality there was nothing happening. There was so much nothing happening that by nine o'clock the three of them were playing gin rummy and Owen was loosing badly. But then he remembered his frog juice potion and decided he would rather play with that. Jack stood up and announced that he was going to clean his quarters.

'You're going to do what?' asked Owen.

'I'm going' Jack said with dignity, 'to clean my room.' He stumped off to the autopsy room to find the cleaning equipment.

By lunch time it was pouring with rain outside so Ianto closed the shop and came downstairs. He was busy web surfing on the computer in the lab, keeping Owen company. There was a growing pile of clothing in Jack's office, presumably being tossed there to give to charity. The red shorts were on the top. Just after the clothing a pile of linen also erupted from the hatch. Jack followed it. 'I can't remember the last time I changed my sheets,' he remarked cheerily when he saw them watching him. He carried the bundle over to the washing machine in the autopsy room and proceeded to make a major fuss over trying to make it go.

'He can't remember the last time he changed his sheets,' Ianto told Owen, 'because he doesn't bleedin' need to. I change them every Monday.'

'And today is only Thursday.' Owen stated the obvious. 'You sure he's not catting around? Has he had someone down there?' The both shut up and looked innocent as Jack went back down to his room.

'I doubt it. He wouldn't.' Ianto didn't sound very sure. 'No. He doesn't.'

'You mean other than you?'

Ianto gave him a look.

'So what's up then? What's with the spring clean?'

Ianto looked worried. 'There's something not right. He does this. Have you noticed? He's so fastidious. He's so careful with his clothes and his personal stuff. And when something's wrong he likes everything else just right.'

When he thought about it Owen supposed he had noticed that. 'Go on.'

'Do you remember, about three months ago he was doing this? After he came back from where ever the hell he'd been. There was something really wrong there for a while and then all of a sudden he came right. He goes through truck loads of towels when he's upset too.'

'What?' Owen looked appalled. 'You mean he…' he made a pulling gesture '...on them?'

'No!' Ianto said shocked. 'Hell no. Jack likes a warm body. I mean he might, I'm sure he does wank but… Shit,' he looked thoroughly disgruntled. 'What I meant was he showers a lot. And he looks scrubbed, like he's tried really hard to get clean.' Realisation dawned. 'Like he looked this morning.'

They both groaned.

The three of them went out that afternoon to look into a suspicious body. It had appeared, almost as if it were posed, in a seat in a booth at a Mall food hall just after the lunch time rush. The body was desiccated, shrivelled and definitely unnaturally dead. The skin was crisp. It appeared to be human. No one saw it get there and the CCTVs had been tampered with.

Owen decided to bring it back to the Hub to autopsy. Jack wasn't sure. There was something about it that made him feel supremely uncomfortable. It didn't however feel alien or rift related and none of their instruments showed alien involvement. He felt they ought to turn the site and the body back over to the police. He nearly argued with Owen, but the fact that it gave him uncomfortable feelings seemed to indicate that there **was** something here to interest them. He just couldn't work out what.

It was a nuisance because he had been hoping that Owen would go home and he and Ianto could have had the rest of the afternoon to themselves. He caught Ianto's eye and realised he'd had similar thoughts.

He was quite pleased when a weevil alert meant that he and Ianto could leave Owen to his gruesome task and get off on their own. They didn't actually have much success, spending hours chasing the creature around in the rain. Without someone working the CCTVs they kept loosing it. It ended up eluding them completely, apparently heading back into the sewers. They gave up.

They were both wet, cold and pissed off. Back at the Hub they were delighted to find that Owen had gone home and Jack was even more pleased that the unpleasant body was away and out of sight. He still had enough energy to raise a smirk. 'Shower?' he asked. Ianto grinned back. As they flung themselves into the bathroom Jack had only the briefest memory of cleaning vomit off the wall behind the toilet earlier in the day. When Ianto grabbed his cock he forgot everything except his over for quite some time.

They made love in the shower, aggressively, battling for dominance as the hot water cascaded over their bodies. When it came to being his lover Ianto would not let Jack be the boss, and he loved him for that. They were equals as sex partners and the dynamic of discovering who was most dominant on any occasion added another dimension to the relationship. Ianto took him against the wall from behind, pumping into his body with Jack's cock in his hand. He surrounded Jack, encompassed him and kept him safe as he lost his heart and soul. They came together, shuddering and straining and calling each other's names. Then they turned and kissed.

Gently they washed each other, held and hugged, kissed some more until Jack this time lead them out of the shower, dried Ianto and himself and took them to the bed. He pushed Ianto onto it and lay down beside him. Stroking and loving it didn't take long before they were both aroused again. Jack moved over his friend to lie on top of him, skin to skin, feeling their cocks rub together, and their whole bodies connecting. Ianto knew what he wanted and drew up his legs, inviting Jack in. It was an offer he couldn't refuse and he fell into his lover's body, was held in his arms and gave himself completely to the beautiful man beneath him.

By the time he walked Ianto up to his car in the garage Jack was feeling warm, physically drained and pleasantly boneless. It had been a very good shag. He snuggled into Ianto's shoulder. 'You sure you don't want to stay?'

Ianto turned and they shared a lingering kiss. 'Not tonight Josephine.' He smiled to take the sting out of his words. 'You know I like my own bed. And so do you.' He kissed him again. 'I know you told Gwen you don't sleep. She told me. Why did you say that?'

'I was messing with her. She was looking at me like I was some sort of super hero. I just wanted to see how much she would believe.'

Ianto chuckled. 'That was unkind.'

Jack shrugged. 'So what did you say?'

'I said I had very rarely actually stayed the night, and when I did sleeping wasn't what we were doing.'

It was Jack's turn to chuckle. 'I'm sure she was pleased to hear that.'

Ianto gave a great yawn. 'What else have you told her?'

Jack rubbed his stubbled chin into the soft skin of Ianto's neck. 'I said my hair didn't grow.'

'Oi!' Yanto giggled. Jack loved that sound, Mr Buttoned-Down-Welshman didn't do it very often. 'Yes, well. It is time I did go home to my bed. And you need some sleep too, even if it isn't as much a normal people.' He turned suddenly to look at Jack, held his shoulders and peered at his face in the dim light. 'Are you all right?'

'Yes,' Jack said surprised. He was more than all right. What did he mean?

'Oh. Okay.' Ianto seemed to see that he was. He pulled him into a hug, planted a kiss on his lips and turned to go. 'Sleep well.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Nightmares of Immortality part 2**

disclaimers etc - see part 1.

Starting to get nasty here folks. Jack torture alert.

When Ianto said sleep well, it never occurred to Jack that he wouldn't

When Ianto said sleep well, it never occurred to Jack that he wouldn't. Other than the way the day had started it had been fairly ordinary. The dream and his distress had faded. He was shagged nearly senseless. He dropped into bed and barely registered pulling the bedclothes up to his chin before he was asleep. He never thought about the possibility of nightmares. It never occurred to him that it could happen again. But it did.

It was the same dream. The same fear, the terror, the restraints, the dirt and helplessness were the same. The Master and his sadistic goons were present. The events happened in the same order, dragged from his cell to the aircraft hanger bay. This time though, he struggled so hard as they dragged him to the block that he struggled himself right off the bed, waking up with a jolt as he collided with the floor.

He gasped and huddled there, completely disorientated and frightened. He felt sick. He was crying. Eventually his mind caught up with reality and the panic subsided. His arm throbbed. He seemed to have caught it on something as he'd thrown himself out of bed then twisted it in a direction it wasn't supposed to go. Reaching up he yanked the covers off the bed and lay there recovering, wrapped in his quilt on the hard floor. He did not want to get back into that bed.

He started trying to make some sense of what had just happened. The fact that two nights in a row he had had the same dream, almost frame for frame the same dream strongly suggested that it wasn't really dream at all. Gingerly he probed the memory of it. He was loath to even think about it, but realised he had to. He'd had a thought yesterday and passed it off, but now he had to consider it. Did this, he wondered have anything to do with the retcon incident? This dream felt too much like a memory. Was this related to the mysterious missing time he'd erased from his memory? Was this what he'd taken retcon to avoid?

Stiffly climbing off the floor he turned on the light and pulled out his treasure box. Opening it he rested his finger briefly on the wedding photo on top, feeling the familiar pain that that memory caused him before pulling out the piece of paper and the envelope that he'd tucked right in the bottom. Going back to bed he settled himself comfortably, placed the sealed envelope on the pillow beside him and put the folded paper on top of it.

He looked at them. He'd placed them exactly the way they had been the morning he found them just over three months ago. That had been a strange awakening. He'd woken to a feeling of calm. He'd felt refreshed and known somehow that that was an unusual feeling. He'd had a disconcerting feeling of utter peace, and of relief and he hadn't known why. Then he'd noticed the envelope and the paper and at first thought that someone else must have been in the room. He'd been both reassured and perplexed when he realised that the notes were in his handwriting, but he knew nothing about them.

Written on the envelope was: _Just incase you can't let the reason behind the retcon alone. This still won't tell you what happened but it will give you some background and tell you how to access a full report if for some inconceivable reason you ever think you need to know._

Which made no sense at all.

So then he had unfolded the paper and read the note.

Hi Jack. You've taken retcon and a sedative. I know you will have slept well. It is the first time in a very long time.

_Please Jack, trust yourself. You know you wouldn't have taken a step like this lightly. If you can, just let it go. If I've done this right you won't find any holes in your memory, except maybe for the last few days. For Gods Sake don't look for any. Your team don't know anything about this. They also don't know anything about the reason you've done this. In case you're wondering, it isn't because you did something wrong. You didn't. You're one of the heroes._

_Please Jack, I can't live with this. I can't think of any reason why I might have to ever remember this. If it might be important one day to know what happened I wouldn't use retcon. Trust me. Us? You? (this writing to myself feels very schizophrenic.) Please. Let it go. Please!_

He had let it go, more or less. He was puzzled by it. He'd remembered counselling Ianto against using retcon to erase his painful memories, and he couldn't imagine what could possibly have been so bad that he had felt such a step was necessary for himself. Paradoxically, if it was so bad, then not knowing what had made him do it seemed like quite a good idea. That had been reinforced by his feeling on waking that morning, that peaceful feeling that had seemed so unusual. So, although confused, he had let it alone. But now this dream felt like a memory. The Master felt like a real person and didn't resemble anyone he remembered. The dream didn't meander around like a dream. Dreams introduced different characters, changed tack and definitely didn't follow a logical sequence of events. They certainly weren't identical two nights in a row.

Was that what was so awful he'd taken retcon? Being beheaded? It did seem awful, but presumably if it had happened he had revived. He was here wasn't he, body attached?

The envelope promised to give some answers if he needed them, but did he want them? Was this related? They might not be. If he opened the envelope and it told him of some massacre of innocents in the Boeshane war, well then obviously his previous self didn't want him to know about it and then he would. And if he didn't open it, and it could shed some light on the nightmares and help to stop them happening then he would never know.

Groaning he got up and showered. Pleasant memories of last night's shower distracted him for a while so that he got dried and dressed in a much happier frame of mind. He decided to go up to the roof to see the sun rise.

Except, that it was still pouring with rain. Thoroughly disgruntled he stood in the stairwell doorway looking at the deluge. That was the trouble with living underground. You could completely loose touch with the world. Turning up his coat collar he edged out into the rain, sheltered from the worst of it by the lift housing. From here he could see out to the Bay but the sea beyond the docks was still dark. He breathed in a few lungs full of the fresh salt laden air then turned and walked all the way back down again.

When he entered the Hub Owen was in the autopsy bay pulling his body out of the chiller. 'What have you found?' he asked going over to look.

Owen looked up and grinned when he saw his boss dripping wet. 'Wet where you were?' he asked. But the quip didn't have Owen's usual bite to it and Jack looked at him concerned. He had dark shadows under his eyes and he looked exhausted.

'What's the matter with you? You look like shit.'

For a minute he didn't think the younger man was going to answer, or not truthfully anyway, but after a brief pause he said deprecatorily, 'Nightmares.'

Jack felt his heart race but kept his face still. 'Oh? What about?'

Owen indicated the corpse in its body bag. 'How he died. Jack I can't stop thinking about it. Every time I shut my eyes last night… It's bad.' Jack watched Owen's grip on the gurney tighten till his knuckles were white. He steeled himself for some horror. He didn't actually want to know. Something about this case had given him the heebie geebies right from the start. 'It's really bad,' Owen repeated

'What have we got?' he asked gently.

'He's human. There is nothing alien about this at all.' Jack waited. 'He's young, mid teens I think. And he's been…' Owen looked pale. 'He's been boiled in chip oil.'

Jack heard what he said, felt the shock of it, opened his mouth to say something and then... BURNING. Christ! Excruciating burning, stop it stop it make it stop. His toes, his legs, moving up burning burning burning, AWHHH! AGONY. His chest, getting deeper, trying to fight, agony burning, screaming for help, for mercy, screaming screaming burning rising, his mouth, up his nose, his eyes and over the top of his head.

With a gasp he was back. Something was covering his face and frantically he pushed it off. Owen and Ianto bent over him, their faces swimming into focus, looking at him in complete horror. He was on the floor, half under one of the lab benches. The fabric he'd pushed off his head and was now bunched around his neck turned out to be his waistcoat and shirt. His braces were gone. He could see broken and upended furniture and one of his shoes, caught by its laces, swinging gently from a shattered table frame. Owen and Ianto were acting like he'd just turned into an alien and they didn't know if he'd bite. Nothing made sense.

'Wha..?' he croaked. He shut his eyes and groaned. He hurt like he'd just gone ten rounds in a boxing ring. Bruised and battered. Burning? He'd been burning. God his throat was sore. He felt hands on him, opened his eyes and searched for Ianto's hand as they pulled him out from under the cupboard and straightened his clothing. Owen was patting him down for injuries. The questions were coming thick and fast. 'Are you alright? What happened? Jack, are you alright?'

'Jack.'

'Jack.'

'Jack! Can you hear me?' The grip on his hand tightened.

'I can hear you,' he said wearily. With considerable effort he got his eyes to focus on their faces. They were kneeling on either side of him. 'What happened?'

'What happened?' That was Owen. 'You took some sort of… of fit! A very violent one. What do you think happened?'

Jack struggled to sit up. He'd hurt his arm again. Ow. And all the rest of him. 'I felt it,' he said. He gritted his teeth as Ianto pulled him into a sitting position then helped him backwards until he was leaning against the wall. He tried to explain. 'I felt what he felt.' He indicated the body bag that still miraculously seemed to have remained on the gurney. 'I was burning.' His stomach heaved and he swallowed bile. 'I was boiling.'

'Jesus.' Ianto draped his coat across his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. He huddled into the coat confused, hadn't he been wearing it? Ianto sat next to him and he gratefully leant against him. He was weak and giddy and pleased for the comfort.

Owen moved in with a blood pressure cuff and a light to shine in his eyes, then suddenly the girls were there, their morning chatter stopping abruptly as they took in the shattered room and the huddle in the corner. The questions started coming again. Then the other four were all talking at once. He let it go on for a minute or two while he gathered his strength and then he shut it down.

'All right,' he said loudly. 'Shut up.' Gratifyingly, they did. 'We have had something odd happen here this morning and we need to find out what it is. Somehow I have experienced some connection with that…' he indicated the gurney with distaste, '…that… corpse over there. Find out how.' He turned to Ianto. 'I need coffee. Now!'

Ianto looked right back. 'No,' he said.

'What?' He struggled to his feet and stood looking down at the other man. 'Ianto, coffee…' he shot his hand out to the wall to steady himself. 'er Please,' he added as an after thought.

Ianto stood too. 'No.'

Over Ianto's shoulder Jack could see the others exchanging glances. Ianto moved in closer and hooked an arm around his waist. 'I'll make you some tea,' he said gently, 'and bring you some toast. You're white as a ghost. Coffee wouldn't be good right now.'

He closed his eyes against sudden tears. Ianto was right. He'd had two really disturbing incidents in the space of less than two hours and his stomach really was having trouble dealing with it. He took a deep breath and pushed off the wall. 'Okay, get on with it. Tosh start trying to find whatever made that happen. Do an alien scan to start with. Gwen and Owen…' He tapered off. For the first time he really noticed the state of the room. It was wrecked. There was hardly an unbroken piece of anything in it. Christ what had he done? Had he been struggling, he must have been, and he supposed the other two had been trying to hold on to him, stop him hurting himself. He hoped he hadn't hurt them. He couldn't deal with that right now. He tried to gather things together; they needed him to be boss. 'I'm going to change. Then I'll be in my office. You know what to do.' He gave a brief smile. 'I'm all right now. So, get on with it.'

Down in his den he peeled off his clothes. His waistcoat and shirt were ripped, the buttons torn off. He wore real braces that buttoned onto his trousers and those buttons were also torn off, the fabric ripped away. He was covered in bruises. He looked like he'd been in a fight. He showered again.

Feeling chilled and vaguely unwell even once he was dressed he shrugged into his coat. At least that had survived. It was still damp from his trip to the roof. Hard to believe that that had been only an hour ago.

He was contemplating the mystery envelope when Ianto came into the office carrying a tray. He had found a proper tea set, an antique floral china pot with matching milk jug and sugar bowl. The effect was spoiled slightly by the Welsh Tourism Board mug but at least the colours matched. There was a plate of toast with a pat of butter and a small dish of marmalade. The finishing touch was a plastic daffodil in a vase. Jack couldn't help but smile. He slid the envelope into his pocket. 'Thank you,' he said sincerely.

'Are you all right?'

'Queen Victoria's tea set,' he said indicating the tray. 'Where did you find it?'

'Really? It was in the cupboard over the draining board.' Ianto didn't seem very impressed. 'And I think you'll find that my mother bought that some time before her wedding and threw it out last year.' He gave a bleak grin. 'Nice try at deflection. Great line in bull shit. So, are you all right?'

Damn. Ianto was getting to know him too well. He had to think before he answered. 'Yes,' he said finally. 'There don't seem to be any lingering after effects. I'm just a bit bruised.'

Tosh knocked on the doorframe. The fact that she'd knocked indicative of her concern for him. 'Jack, we need to ask you some questions.'

Ianto made shooing motions. 'Go away. Let him have a chance to eat.'

'No, it's all right.' Jack shushed him. 'Why don't you do toast all round. If I drink the tea, will you bring me coffee?' He put on his best puppy dog look. 'Come back when the toast is ready.'

He used the time to quietly drink a mug of tea. Ianto was right, it did help. The heat soothed his sore throat. A piece of toast went down all right after that and he was actually starting to think properly again when they all returned. What the hell **had** happened?

As usual eating restored the Torchwood team's equilibrium and lifted their mood. Sharing food and ideas was a big part of the way they worked. Ianto came back with coffee all round, thank goodness, and Jack waited until most people were finished before bringing up the subject they were all temporarily ignoring.

'Okay,' he asked. 'What happened here this morning? What do we know?'

Tosh started. 'I can't find any hint of alien involvement. I've done a full sweep. We do have plenty of alien things around but nothing seems to be showing any signs of activating, or doing anything different to what we already know about. The only alien material we are unsure about is the goo from Owens' frogs.'

'And as far as we know, that is just a straight poison.' He checked with Owen. 'Right?'

Owen shrugged. 'I think. I don't really know yet but it seems to be a neurotoxin.'

'Okay. For now we'll discount that. What happened here this morning? Owen, what did you see?'

'You had a fit.' Owen looked fairly unhappy. 'A violent one.'

'A fit? Come on? I've trained you better than that people.' He looked at them all anxiously looking at him and rolled his eyes. 'You observed an unnatural phenomenon this morning. Tell me what you saw? Try again.

'Owen?'

Owen parked on the edge of the desk and took a deep breath. 'Alright. I'm trying to think.' He looked around the room for inspiration. 'You'd come in from somewhere, you were wet.' He looked at Jack. 'You asked about the body and I started to tell you. Then,' he shrugged, 'for no reason, out of nowhere, you just screamed. You flung yourself backwards and I think that is when the table got broken. You gave me a hell of a fright.'

Jack clenched his fists. 'Keep going.'

'I hadn't a clue what was happening. You were screaming and you were writhing around. I tried to grab you and got the hem of your coat but you slid out of it and kept flinging yourself around the floor. Ianto came in and we tried to tackle you. You were whacking yourself against the benches and head butting the wall,' Ianto nodded in agreement, his eyes on Jack. 'and you kept screaming. Like you were being…'

'Fried?' Jack suggested.

Owen looked sick. 'Yeah, exactly like that.' He was close to tears. 'It was dreadful.'

'We tried to tackle you,' Ianto said 'but every time we managed to get hold of a bit of your clothing, you'd tear away. It was odd though, I don't think you could see us. You were fighting desperately but you didn't seem to be fighting us as such, just fighting.' He came to stand behind Jack, his hand gripping his shoulder. 'You didn't hurt us either,' he told him. 'In case you were worried about that.'

Jack grasped his hand in gratitude. He had been worried. 'Okay then, how did it stop?' He took a cautious sip of his coffee. Ianto's fingers twined through his.

Owen looked at Ianto and shrugged. 'We'd managed to get hold of your arms but you gave a great heave and shunted out of it. That was when you ended up under the cupboard. Then you sort of convulsed and the screaming stopped.' Owen buried his face in his coffee cup, his body taut with emotion. Tosh put a hand on him but he didn't notice her. He looked at Jack. 'I didn't know what to think,' he said. He gave a humourless laugh. 'I was half expecting a movie alien to come busting out of your chest.' No one else thought that was funny either. 'When you looked at us, I didn't know if it would still be you.'

There was quiet as they all processed Owen's story. 'How long did it take?' Jack asked.

Owen looked confused. 'I don't know, I mean I wasn't paying attention.' He looked at him helplessly. 'It felt like a long time.'

'Come on,' Jack chided him. 'Think. What time did I come in? What time did the girls arrive?' His throat was raw from screaming and his voice croaked. 'You must have some frame of reference you can use?'

Owen was upset.

'Fifteen minutes,' Ianto said quietly from behind him. 'It must have been nearly fifteen minutes.'

Jack felt sick.

Tosh asked the next question. 'Jack, what happened to you?'

'I felt myself,' he said carefully, '… being boiled in oil.' He looked at their horrified faces and knew that he had to do what he'd made Owen do. Who knew what detail may be important? 'Starting at my toes I was being lowered inch..,' he watched them blanch. '…by agonising inch… into boiling oil.' Ianto was pressing against his back, hands on his shoulders holding him tight. His rib cage didn't seem to want to breathe. He had to force it to expand. 'I was trying to fight, but there was nothing I could do. I felt myself start to cook.' Gwen was hanging onto the door frame for support. She looked like she might hurl.

Now that he'd started telling the story he couldn't stop. 'It kept creeping up. My legs, my torso. The pain….' He had to stop and force a breath again. 'It kept coming up. My chest, my neck,' he chewed on his lip. 'It filled my mouth.' He couldn't help it, he moaned. He took a great shuddering breath, held his hand to his mouth, fighting for control, squeezing his eyes against the tears. 'Then it filled my nose… and my eyes. My eyes melted… Then it rose up and I felt it in my hair as it went over the top of my head.' He looked up to see his team looking as distressed as he felt. 'Then it was over.' He tried to smile but failed utterly. 'No aliens. Sorry.' He swiped his hand across his eyes and leant back into Ianto's embrace.

'Jack?' It was Gwen. 'Can you talk some more? Did you see anything?' That was Gwen, her policewoman training trying to solve the crime. Still it was a sensible question so he tried. He opened his eyes and tried to smile at her white face. He thought hard. 'I don't think so,' he finally said. 'It was all feeling.' He looked at her. 'I could feel myself being lowered into the oil,' and the pain and the panic he thought but didn't need to say it again. 'But I don't think there was anything I could see… or hear.'

'All right, if you could feel, was there a breeze? Were you naked? Were you tied up?'

He bit back a facetious comment and thought about it. 'Naked,' he finally decided. 'Tied hands and feet.' He shook his head trying hard to remember anything beyond pain and fear. 'No, I don't know.'

'How were you lowered in?'

'By my hands. I was hanging from my hands… trying to lift my self up and away from it.'

'No!' Owen said flatly, startling them.

'What? No?'

'No.' Owen stood up. 'No.' It was a statement. 'That's not conducive with the evidence.' They all stared at him. 'The victim's hands were bound in front of him.' He held his hands out, wrists together. 'They're set that way. He wasn't lowered in by his arms.'

They looked at each other.

'Shit!' said Tosh.

Tosh and Gwen started arguing. Owen was studying him with a look of horror. Jack started to shake. Ianto held him tight.

Chaos reigned for several minutes. Jack had had it. He had to get out of here. 'All right,' he called. 'Enough!'

'Owen. There's nothing alien about this death, right? So what do you want to do with… it?'

Owen breathed through his nose. 'I haven't got the facilities here to do much more. I don't like it, but think it should probably go back to the police. It needs a forensic anthropologist to go over it, get an ID. I can't do that.' They could tell that thought annoyed the hell out of him. 'I want to be in on this though. I want this sick fuck!'

'Fair enough,' Jack felt much the same. He was in no mood to tell them this wasn't their job. 'Okay, get your records together and get the body signed back into police custody. Keep a copy of everything of course. Don't worry, Tosh can make sure we know where they're going with their investigation and we'll be ahead of them if we can. Tosh and Gwen, get going on this our way. There must be something about that mall, or something from cameras outside. You know what to do.

'Owen, you'll need the vehicle. Ianto, can I borrow your car? There's something I need to go and do.'


	3. Chapter 3

Jack had decided quite a lot earlier in the day that he was going to do his best to self medicate the nightmares out of his system tonight. By that he meant he was going to get roaring, rats arsed drunk and shag someone until he passed out. For the sake of their on going relationship he didn't want to inflict that on Ianto.

Warning warning. Slutty Jack approaching.

BTW - real fun to write

bit of angst first, then the sex.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was still pouring with rain, some rivers and streams threatening to break their banks and surface flooding blocking some roads. It took him a bit of an effort to find the place again; he hadn't paid much attention to where it was in the first place, but it wasn't too hard. He parked next to the white picket fence by the park with the spring. He got out into the rain and walked up to the spring. The water was still trickling tranquil and dark from the little basin. It seemed unaffected by the rain. He knelt and dipped his fingers in the water, brushed his fingers across his forehead and nose, rubbed a little into his temples, he had a pounding headache. He welcomed the blessing of the place. Cupping his hands he took it further, splashing the whole handful into his face. He drank. It soothed his sore throat.

Tears mingling with the rain and spring water he made his way back to the car.

There was no view today, just the driving rain lashing the car. It was cocoon like in the car, insulated and separate from the world. He turned the engine on, leaving the heater running. He just sat there allowing his body to mould into the seat, Ianto's seat, his coat pulled tight around him. Brittle and fragile he needed to be alone. Tears spilled and he let them fall, no need to pretend or be strong with no one to see. What had happened this morning was confusing and frightening, coming on top of The Nightmare, which he was starting to think of in capital letters, it was seriously disturbing and close to being more than he could handle. He needed to get his head around what had happened. He didn't need his team to see him fall apart. He reclined the seat and lay back letting the flood of emotions wash over him.

After a while, and sooner than he was expecting, his mind started working again, picking at things, noticing details, asking questions. The main question was: if he wasn't channelling Owen's corpse, what had he been doing? That was followed by: was this related to The Nightmare and were they both in turn related to the missing memories? He pulled the envelope out of his pocket where he'd slipped it earlier.

He turned it over and over in his hands. He was right. He knew he wouldn't have taken retcon lightly. Did he need to know why he had done it? Would knowing change anything? Well how the hell was he to know if he didn't know what it was? God this was driving him nuts. If he was going to go mental trying to work out the implications it had to be better to know. He pulled the seat upright and spent a moment enjoying the thought that this was Ianto's car and he was sitting in Ianto's seat. It didn't smell or feel particularly of Ianto but it was a comforting place to be. It was nearly as good as having his arms wrapped around him.

He ripped open the envelope and pulled out a stack of crumpled pages. They were in his hand writing again, the words cramped together yet nearly pathologically neat. Some of the words were smeared and there were places where he had tried to write but the paper had obviously been wet and had torn.

_H__i. I don't quite know what to say. I'm hoping that you're only reading this because you're in some sort of trouble. Something isn't right and you need to know if what is happening is related to what happened that you can't remember. Please please Jack don't be reading this just because you're curious. The trouble is I know myself and you're me and that just might be the case so I guess I'll have to write another note telling myself to let it be. It might work._

_What did happen? I have just spent the most awful three days writing it all down. I haven't slept I just had to get it down, because once I decided what I was going to do I just had to get it finished and done. And I feel ripped apart and paradoxically a lot better. It was quite good in a way to get it down. In fact once I'd done it I nearly decided not to go through with the retcon. At this stage though I have decided that I must and I also know that there must be a way to access this … information… at some stage just in case._

_In case you're wondering I did it on a borrowed laptop, put it on a disc then threw the laptop away. You can't track it down and find out that way. I gave the disc to Owen. I didn't tell him what it was, just that it was vitally important that he store it securely, never mention it again and never give it back to me._

_Of course he was curious and of course he thought that was strange, but he is so sidetracked with falling in love with Toshiko at the moment that he didn't appear to think about it very much. That was why I chose to get him to hide it. I hope he hasn't said anything. I am assuming however, Owen being who he is, that if you really need to know, you will find a way to get him to give it back. Please don't._

_Jack, I … you, or is that we? I don't know how much to tell you so that you know what happened but not enough to trigger memories to break through the retcon. I'll try, hopefully this will be enough. You went off for a jaunt with the Doctor. It went badly wrong. We, the Doctor and me and his companion Martha Jones ended up captured by another time lord – yes I know we thought the Doctor was the last of the Time Lords but there was one other. This one, known as the Master was a **megalomaniacal sadistic **__BASTARD who proceeded to enslave earth and kept you and the Doctor prisoner for an entire year. Jack you and the Doctor were treated very badly, but he really picked on me. I was tortured, nearly daily for that whole year. He really knew what to go for. And he came so close to driving me mad. And that is what I am afraid of. It was so close and if it had gone on any longer it would have happened I know. In the end Martha managed to cause the earth to rise against him, you managed to make time go back to where it had been before he took over earth and only you, Martha and her family are left on earth to know what happened. The Doctor of course is off, gallivanting around the universe doing god knows what and completely unaffected because he's just like that isn't he? FUCK_

_The point is Jack is that you haven't been able to shake it off. You were so close to tipping over the edge and that hasn't got any better. I spoke to Martha who is finishing her medical training. She tried to help. She found information on post traumatic stress and she did her best, but face it I'm different, I am so different. And if I can't die until the very end of time, and oh please let me be able to die then, I just can't spend eternity completely insane. Martha knows and she knows about the retcon and thinks it is the right thing to do. That means a lot. She won't ever let on unless you ask._

_So is that enough for you Jack? Do you know enough now? I was tortured. Physically and mentally tortured and the memories are driving me insane. I'm exhausted. I can't think, can't do, can't function and I can't go on. This note, writing this is the last thing I have to do and then I won't remember it any more. I am no expert with retcon, but I do know a thing or two. I can't ask Owen for help, obviously, but I think I have it right. Because most of this happened in time that doesn't exist any more I shouldn't notice that I can't remember. But I just can't bring myself to do it and not be able to remember if I need to. I hope, pray, I don't pray but the word feels right…. Oh Jack I'm so sorry. I'm so tired_

_I have to finish. I'm crying again and I'm not making sense anymore. I'm so sick of crying Please Jack, this is really hard. I never ever thought it would come to this. Don't undo it._

_It's alright. I've done it. I've taken the stuff and I've taken a sedative and I'm going to bed._

He turned the page over, but that was it, the note was finished. He breathed out through his teeth. Intense. It was really intense. He could sense the emotions behind it but wasn't quite sure what to make of it. His first response was that this confirmed what he had been coming to believe, that 'The Master' was real. It also revealed the terrible state of mind he had obviously been in when he wrote it. But then his next response was that he was a crap story teller. The note read like a cross between a synopsis of a bad movie and a suicide letter. Regarding his present problems he really was no better off. And, he obviously hadn't seemed to consider what would happen if he needed to access this information in two hundred years time when neither Owen Harper nor Martha Jones was still around.

The note wasn't triggering any memories. That was a good thing. He sat there a few minutes more, testing his feelings, but nothing negative came to light. He was starting to feel faintly ridiculous, over reacting to a bad dream and a strange experience in the lab. With a feeling of rye amusement he realised that all he really felt right now was hungry, and he had a feeling that the desperate Jack who had written that message wouldn't actually be too disturbed by that.

Owen, Gwen and Tosh were clustered around Tosh's work station trying to find Jack somewhere in the city on CCTV when Gwen noticed their own security footage showing Ianto's car coming back into the garage. 'Got him,' she called. 'He's here.'

'How did he do that?' Tosh asked no one in particular. Ianto arrived through the cog door with a bag of pastries at just that moment. 'Have you found him?' he asked. 'Any news?'

'He's here,' Gwen informed him. Then the next minute he was. He was damp, his hair dishevelled and flashing a beaming smile. It was as if the sun had come out.

'Afternoon all.' Jack hung his coat on his hook and swept his hand through his hair. 'Sure is wet out there today. How are you doing with your projects? Ianto any chance of coffee?' He swept towards his office.

Owen was braver than the others. 'Jack, where have you been? We were worried about you?'

'Me? I've been fine.' He laughed. He sounded slightly unhinged. 'I've been having lunch with some witches. Very convivial.'

'Holly fuck,' Owen muttered under his breath.

Jack turned his intense gaze on him. 'Do you have a problem with that?'

'Oh hell no,' Owen muttered, 'You want to consort with witches, well that's your business I guess.'

'Yes,' Jack said. 'It is.' He looked them all over. 'If you've all got nothing better to do than stand there and stare at me, why don't you all just fuck off and go home!'

There was a stunned silence. Then, 'Ah,' Tosh said, 'I've got work to do.'

'Yeah, and me,' Gwen agreed. Both girls looked shocked.

Owen didn't say anything, just stared Jack down. Jack broke first and stalked off to his office. Owen gave him five minutes then followed him. He leant on the door frame. Jack was fiddling with the pile of papers on his desk ignoring him. 'Knock knock?' Owen asked quietly.

Jack sighed. 'Come in.'

'What's happening?' Owen moved in and came around the desk beside his boss. He squatted; he didn't want to seem intimidating. 'You seem a bit euphoric. Have you taken something?'

Jack gave a bark of laughter. 'Only water.'

Owen raised his eyebrow.

'Oh, and soup. Soup and scones.'

'Soup and scones?' Owen repeated stupidly.

'Yes. I ran out of here needing to get the hell away.' Owen was a bit surprised Jack was admitting that. 'And I had all sorts of crises of emotion while sitting in the car.' Jack turned the full force of his blue eyed gaze on the medic. 'Is that what you want to hear Owen? Is that what you're doing in here?' He stood up, towering over the other man. 'Well I'm sorry to disappoint you Owen but I went out and I had lunch in a café in a converted mill house. The special of the day was homemade vegetable soup with scones and the lady that served me told me about a spring at the top of the hill there with magical properties. She said it heals people and gives them strength to endure. Then she told me that she was one of a local group, I could call them a coven if I liked, that protected the spring and used the healing properties for the benefit of all who sought them out. She was training her daughter in the old ways she said. And she'd also made sure she'd passed on her recipe for soup.'

Jack subsided back into his chair suddenly, breathing hard. He shut his eyes for a minute. Then opened them and stared at Owen. 'She was as loopy as unravelled knitting,' he said fondly. 'She was kind and sweet and she sensed something about me.' He shrugged. 'She was a witch.'

Ianto appeared. Unspeaking he handed Jack a coffee. His eyes however couldn't hide his concern.

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. 'I'm all right everyone. Stop it. I'm fine.'

It was Friday night so the team did what they did every Friday night. They went out for drinks. In the grand scheme of things they often dealt with, Jack's "turn" that he'd had that morning was fairly insignificant, especially when Jack himself seemed completely over it. Tosh left early, still getting over her cold and Owen left soon after. Rhys came and joined them but after just one drink started breathing heavily into Gwen's neck and dragged her off. Leaving just Ianto and Jack.

'Would you like to come home with me then?' Ianto asked. He was feeling relaxed and well ready for bed. He also wanted to get Jack undressed and check him for bruises. He was still moving a little stiffly and seemed quite sore. Then he could kiss him better and look after him, a role play he relished. Jack however was to disappoint him. 'No, not really.' He smiled invitingly. 'Let's go clubbing. I feel like some partying. Wanna come?'

Ianto gave a snort of annoyance. 'Not really Jack. I just want to go home to bed. Don't you want to do that?' He ran his hand up Jack's inner thigh and was surprised when Jack pushed him away.

'No.' Jack stood up. 'I want to dance. I want to spend some time in the world where people aren't always scared and bad things don't keep happening. I need to remember what I'm doing this for.' He gave a petulant pout which was spoiled by its owner's sudden lurch to the left. He really was quite drunk. 'I want to dance.'

'Jack please. Come on. Let's go home.' Ianto played his trump card. 'I have ice cream.' He could see that nearly swung it, but not quite.

'Nope,' Jack said. He weaved his way to the bar and Ianto followed watching in disbelief as Jack bought a bottle of bourbon. 'Dancing,' he said waving the bottle at Ianto. He had, Ianto noted, a full and flagrant erection. Then he realised sadly that it wasn't dancing that Jack really wanted tonight. He knew too that what Jack wanted Ianto couldn't give. He'd tried to offer it once, when he realised that Jack liked things that way sometimes, but he just didn't do slutty. It had been embarrassing and Jack had stopped him in mid attempt and kissed him and thanked him, and assured him that that wasn't what he wanted – ever – from him; and Ianto had felt loved and special. He still did, most of the time. But right now he also felt rejected and sad.

He forced his voice to sound bright. 'It's okay Jack. You go dancing. I'll head off. I might call in tomorrow; see how hung over you are. You be careful out there.' He put big emphasis on the word careful, then pulled him in for a quick hug. 'You have a good night. I need to go get some sleep.'

Damn. Jack was feeling guilty now. He knew that Ianto wasn't a night owl. To be up this late at all was testament to how much he wanted to be with him. Jack had thought that waiting this late to announce he wanted to go dancing would be all he would need to do to get his lover to go home alone. Unfortunately Ianto had seen straight through him. And he hadn't thrown a hissy fit or a tantrum and insisted he should come home – now. He'd let him go. It was nearly enough to make him turn around and race back off after him.

Nearly, but not quite.

Jack had decided quite a lot earlier in the day that he was going to do his best to self medicate the nightmares out of his system tonight. By that he meant he was going to get roaring, rats arsed drunk and shag someone until he passed out. For the sake of their on going relationship he didn't want to inflict that on Ianto.

However, his plan to dump Ianto hadn't been very clever and now he was feeling guilty. That was as good a reason as any other to get on with the first part of the plan. The rats arsed drunk bit. He broke the seal on his bottle and took a good swig of the straight spirit. 'Yowser!' He'd already had a considerable quantity of beer and the bourbon hit his spinal column with force. It was good. That was exactly the effect he was after.

He headed into town, making for the area of tourist bars and cafes. Tourist bars were always a great place to pull. Everyone there was a little odd, a little out of place and tended to have lowered inhibitions as they were all out of their normal environment, on holiday and out to enjoy themselves.

It was certainly looking that way tonight. In spite of the mucky weather there were groups of people spilling out of the bars, milling around in the street. Young people, different accents, different colours, different clothing. It was vibrant and alive and it cheered him immensely.

Hiding his bottle under his coat he picked an Irish bar, for no other reason than he'd been lucky here previously. The air inside was thick with body heat, beer and naturally occurring sex pheromones. Oh yes, he'd come to the right place.

It didn't take much, a bit of eye contact as he was waiting at the bar and within minutes he was joining a group of young back packers in a booth. There were eight of them, of several nationalities and they were grouped so that the boys were on one side of the table and the girls on the other. The girl on the end stood and let Jack slide in between her and the next girl. It became clear very quickly that although they had come as a group, they weren't all together. The three girls were sharing a bunkroom at a hostel. Their names were Judy, Julie and Jill and they were from Australia and New Zealand but he never figured out who was which or even which girl fitted which name. They were tanned, toned and happy.

It was hot in the bar so everyone had taken their coats off. These lay in a pile under the table around their feet. Jack however had kept his coat on his lap and undercover of this, it didn't take him long to discover that the girl on his left didn't mind at all if his hand should rest on her thigh. She'd even spread her legs slightly and let Jack's fingers go exploring up under her short skirt. He was very impressed with how she managed to carry on a bright conversation, asking him where he was from, twinkling at one of the guys on the other side of the table, winking at her girlfriend at the end of the table.

He was even more impressed when he felt her hand slide under the coat and move up to caress him. The noise of the bar swirled around them. Jack kept his other hand above the table, clutching his glass as he eased two fingers under her knicker elastic and found his way deeper. She had to stop talking then.

He moved her hand off him so that he could concentrate and bent down and kissed her. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the boys glare at him, then he shut his eyes and concentrated on the girl. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, all the while keeping up a relentless finger fuck that brought her to the edge very quickly. Wrapping his free arm around her he pulled her into a hug so that when she came, she was surrounded and shielded from the gaze of everyone by his body. It must have nearly killed her to keep quiet. It nearly killed him. He held his position until he felt her come back to herself and with some reluctance let her go. He pulled back just enough to smile at her and was relieved when she smiled back. She was pink and flushed and her eyes glowed. 'Oh my, Jack,' she said fanning herself. 'You really are the most fantastic kisser.'

To his chagrin she then announced, 'God I'm tired,' and slid under the table in a boneless heap. The boys looked at him in disgust. On of them said something in such heavily accented English that Jack couldn't understand him and they all stood up and left. Within moments their place was taken by a group of local lads who didn't seem at all perturbed by a girl curled up on the coats under the table.

Jack topped up the glasses of himself and the other two girls from his hidden bottle and was just learning that they didn't actually know each other, they'd just ended up in the hostel together when he felt a hand move up his leg and start rubbing the painfully large bulge in his trousers. Pretending to hide the bourbon he rearranged his coat to hide things and slide a hand down to help. She seemed to be having trouble with the fact that his flies had buttons. Once he was free however, it was his turn to have trouble. He wasn't nearly as good as she was at appearing nonchalant and when she nudged his knees apart and her head came up under the coat and her mouth found him he couldn't help himself. He let out a strangled "Urgh." He could do little more than try to hold himself still and not moan. He knew he must look like a rabbit caught in the headlights but he couldn't… god she was good. Oh god, oooh god.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his chest. Then he realised the girl on his right had hold of his nipple. He stared at her in shock. He noticed the third girl behind her looking decidedly dark on things. Next moment he couldn't see her anymore because the second one was kissing him, pashing would have been the right word, and he realised that she was shielding him, giving the world, should they happen to notice, a reason for this man to be moaning, and hopefully not notice the girl under the table under the coat, whose head was bobbing up and down as she sucked him off. He was very grateful. Oh good god! He had to fight to keep his buttocks firmly attached to the seat although he desperately needed to pump into her soft and welcoming throat. The thought of it all was too much and he came - suddenly - forcing himself to stay keep quiet, not to move or thrash about. He nearly burst something.

The deception however hadn't worked. They got thrown out of the bar. It had been a very good start to the night.

They stood in the street, the three girls and Jack with his coat buttoned to hide the wet patch on his pants. Jack still had his bottle and passed it round.

'Well what now,' asked Julie or Jill.

Jack gave her his best smile. 'We do what the bar manager said.' He gathered the girls to him. 'We find a bed.'

There was, it appeared, a slight problem with that. They couldn't come back to his he explained because he had a room mate. And they were staying in a bunkroom in a hostel, with bunks. Jack didn't think that was much of a problem and said so. He stopped to snog the girl he hadn't played with yet and came up for air to hear the other two discussing how to smuggle him into the hostel. 'They lock the door at twelve,' Jill or Judy explained. 'You have to ring the bell to get let in. And we're not allowed visitors.'

'We'll worry about that when we get there,' he informed them and Jack, Julie, Judy and Jill moved off in a huddle of sexual anticipation.

Julie or Judy was rubbing up against him like a bitch in heat. 'You better be up for this handsome,' she informed him. She gave a nasty laugh. 'You have come once already and you are very drunk.'

'Drink makes me better.' Jack grabbed her and stuck his tongue down her throat. He took her hand and pressed it into his crotch, roughly pushing her hand between the coat buttons and in close. She moaned and gave him a squeeze. He let her go and took a deep breath. 'You won't be disappointed.' He looked at them all. 'No one's going to be disappointed tonight. I promise you.' But it wasn't drink that made him better. It was adoring company and a wash of pheromones. He would have no problems. They just had to find somewhere to damn well go.

In the end they had no problems getting into the hostel. Another group of people, male and female arrived back at the same time and the doorman didn't seem to notice an extra. They fell into the girls room, locked the door, flung the mattresses onto the floor and frantically undressed each other. Jack found himself overwhelmed in a writhing mass of soft bodies. He set to work with hands, mouth and finally giving in to what felt like a near crippling build up of pressure, with his cock. He pounded into the girl, this time giving into the pleasure of movement, of being able to make noise and as she started to convulse under him came with something close to a primal howl.

They rested then, warm and sticky bodies entwined until he felt a hand fondling his limp cock. He moved closer to the hand's owner and pulled her close, kissing and fondling in return. He worked at her nipples, her neck and moved down her body until his head was between her legs. He licked and sucked until she was writhing above him, his own arousal growing. One of the other girls had a hand on his bum, running a finger around his crack. When the finger found his arse and pushed in he nearly came on the spot.

Quickly moving up the body of the girl he'd been working on he stopped for a quick kiss of the other two. Then grabbing the girl under him he flipped them so that she was on top. She enthusiastically climbed on and rode him to a frenzy as one of the others kissed him senseless. When that was over he knew he had to give up on the idea of shagging the last girl. There was no way he could go again. The girl on top of him seemed to have gone to sleep, her body warm and heavy on his. He rolled them sideways, wrapping himself around her. 'I can't do anymore,' he whispered to anyone who was listening. He was sliding into sleep but he would have managed to stay awake, to satisfy someone some other way if he had too. He knew he wasn't being fair. A sleeping bag was thrown over him and a warm body snuggled into his back. An arm was thrown over him but it wasn't sexual, not anymore, just a cuddle. 'That's all right,' a voice whispered. 'You've been a real treat. Go to sleep now. You've done well.' She stroked his hair then kissed him between the shoulder blades. As he dropped off he could feel her move against him, her hand between her legs. She moaned and pressed up against him and he pressed back. He really should have reached back to help her, he really should, but sleep was dragging at him, the hormones that follow sex combining with alcohol and nights of disturbed sleep. He couldn't fight it and slid under.

He was soundly and comfortably asleep when he was woken by a hand shaking his shoulder. It was dark in the room and the voice spoke softly but the reek of sex quickly reminded him of where he was. 'Jack. Jack wake up.' He stirred and a kiss was planted on his cheek. 'I'm sorry love, but you've got to go.' The light from a torch shone momentarily in his eyes. 'Sorry,' the owner apologised. 'I'm trying to find my knickers.' She shone the light around the room revealing a site of carnage - clothing, bedding and bodies strewn around. 'Ah,' she found Jack's pants and threw them at him. 'We're probably going to get thrown out of here in the morning. We weren't exactly quiet last night.' She passed him his tee shirt and pulled on a top she'd liberated from the pile. Groggily he extricated himself from the warm pile of bedding and pulled on his pants and tee shirt. 'I'm sorry,' she told him. 'I just think it will be so much worse if you're still here.' She passed him the torch so he could search for the rest of his stuff. He found his shirt and stuffed it into his coat pocket. He found one shoe and she spotted the other. He shuffled into them without worrying about socks. She held up one of his braces and he grinned at her. 'Keep it. Souvenir.' She came over and kissed him, warm and sweet. 'I'll let you out.'

She walked him through the quiet building holding his hand. At the door she stopped and kissed him again. 'We'll never see you again will we?'

'I doubt it.' He smiled at her. 'Have a great life.'

She smiled back and planted a brief kiss on his forehead. 'Oh I will. You too.'

Then he was out in the cold. With a sigh, he turned and started trudging back towards the Hub. Oh way to go Jack, he muttered. Mission fucking accomplished. Rats arse drunk, shagged to a coma. Only trouble was you didn't factor in finding somewhere where you could stay asleep. The cold seemed to activate the alcohol again and he staggered. He stopped for a piss and then found the ground lurch under his feet and threw up in the gutter. Fucking good shag though, he remembered as he straightened up. He was singing as he let himself in the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, the nightmare comes again. And it is more graphic. If you didn't like it the first time don't read it now.

I have to admit, these aren't chapters. I'm just breaking the thing up into roughly ten page chunks.

I am really trying to get this wound up in the next few days. It is taking up way too much of my life.

Thanks for feed back - the more the better. Go on, you know you want to

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A little earlier Owen had started awake as his computer beeped. Bugger. Groggily he staggered up to check. Bugger bugger. Jack was on the move again. Logging into the Torchwood server he called up the CCTV near the dot on the map. He found him quickly, there were very few people out on the streets at this time. Which was? He checked the time on the bottom of the screen, 4.18. Damn the man. Concerned about Jack, but also, he had to admit, out of a sense of voyeurism, Owen had placed a small GPS tracking pin in the seam of Jack's coat earlier when they were all at the pub. He already knew damn well that Jack wouldn't be going home with Ianto and decided he didn't want to be around when Ianto figured that out. He left quite early and was home with the computer running before Jack left the pub. It didn't really make him happy that his hunch had been right.

When he had followed him with the monitors and seen him go into a building with those three girls he'd picked up at the Irish Bar Owen had expected that to be it. They were so obviously in the late stages of foreplay that sex was imminent and so drunk that when it was over he didn't think they'd be able to move until at least mid morning. But now, just over three hours later here was Jack. Owen watched in distaste as he peed in a doorway and moments later vomited in the gutter. Hell he must have a real skin full to do that. Owen had never seen that before.

It appeared he was heading back to the Hub. Well he reasoned, he'd hardly go to Ianto's in that state would he? From where he was Owen figured that gave him roughly half an hour to get there before him.

Needing a reason to be in the Hub at this time of night he fired up a retort of his frog goo. He grimaced at the name but 'frog goo' was as good a name as anything and at least they all knew what he was talking about. There was something about this stuff and it was really bugging him. He set the flask over the flame and this time, somehow he actually got it to the exact temperature that made it release volatiles so that the sensor he'd lowered into the neck of the flask could read them. He'd had it close a couple of times, the computer had indicated it was receiving something before flashing "Not Enough Data". This time though the computer screen started to flash, indicating it was getting a reading and kept going. "Analysing" it told him. 'Well I'm damned,' he whispered excitedly. He'd spent all his spare time for the last two weeks trying to make that happen.

And then suddenly, there was Jack. 'Oh shit.' Owen gaped at him. Even knowing where he'd been and what he'd been up to he somehow hadn't expected him to look like that. He was dishevelled, half dressed, his shirt hanging out of his pocket, his flies undone. He was singing but stopped abruptly when he spotted the lights in the lab. 'Who's there,' he called.

'It's only me,' Owen answered stepping out into the open. 'Jesus, look at you.' He walked closer. 'Oh god, you stink. What is that? Eau de Parisian Brothel.' Jack glared at him. Owen pretended to take a good sniff. 'Let's see. What is it? Deep undernotes of alcohol and sex, yes? But there's more. Definitely more. A top note of vomit and something else. Wait a minute, wait. Oh I know. Piss. Yes. Definitely piss.'

Jack just stood there with his mouth open.

Owen took a deep breath and wondered at the wisdom of what he was going to say next. He said it anyway. 'Jack, do you practise safe sex?'

Jack broke. 'Fuck off Owen.' His voice was venomous. He looked like he might bite but was restraining himself. He headed for his room then turned. 'What the hell are you doing here anyway?'

'The tyralian venom, I've finally got a reading.'

'Huh?'

'The frog goo. I've finally managed to get a molecular break down on the volatiles. I'll be able to work out how it works.' Jack obviously didn't have the foggiest idea what he was talking about.

'Frog goo!' Jack's eyes nearly crossed in his effort to concentrate. 'You're here playing with Frog goo? Jesus Owen.' He headed towards his office. 'Piss off.'

'I can't. I have to keep it going until I've got a full reading.'

'Fine then. Fuck off back to the lab. I'm going to bed.' He stumbled on one of the metal steps and careered into the wall. 'Ow. Fuck!'

'Jack you know you can catch particularly virulent infections. I've seen you ill. I know you can't die but I don't think the dieing part of aids or syphilis would be much fun even if you know you'll survive it eventually.' Jack gave him a crazed look but Owen hurried on. 'And what about what you're passing on to others? Do you think about that? Even if you're all right with something, you could still pass it on.'

Jack swung a punch but Owen dodged it easily. 'Just think about it,' he called as Jack swung open the hatch by his desk and dropped down the hole. There was a crash, followed by another one accompanied by swearing, a moment later Jack's head reappeared through the hatch. He seemed to know that Owen would still be standing in the doorway. 'Damn it Owen,' he said sadly. 'You've ruined it. I was feeling happy.' He disappeared back down the hole and the light went off.

'Oh that went well.' Owen muttered. 'Well done Mr Caring Bloody Medic. Bloody brilliant bloody bed side manner.' Subdued he went back to his potion.

An hour later the computer was showing a complex molecule. It was rotating on the screen, looking like a child's construction set, each atom showing as a different size or colour. The machine had isolated the volatile and there was something about it, and he could not work out what, that seemed vaguely familiar. He should be excited but he couldn't concentrate, he was too busy stewing over his appalling behaviour earlier. Owen was completely disgusted with himself.

He had no idea at all why he had felt the need to burst Jack's happy bubble. The guy wasn't hurting anyone, hadn't done anything wrong. It was his own behaviour that had been completely out of order and Owen was deeply ashamed. He'd had enough time now to realise what a dreadful thing he had done. Jack had been out on a bender, as he had every right to do. He'd come home, worse for wear, but so what? He should have been able to come home, sleep it off, clean up and no one would know or care. But Owen had been here and gone off at him like a screaming wife. He'd been a bit jealous he supposed. Three women, bloody hell, why couldn't he pull like that?

Poor Jack. He'd looked completely gob smacked by the unexpected ambush. Christ, Owen had come because he thought Jack needed his help and what had he done? Delivered a sucker punch.

Owen shut down everything in the lab, put the precious toxin away, turned the lights off and went and lay down on the ratty sofa. Jack would probably stay comatose for quite a few hours yet but he wanted to stick around. It was why he had come after all. Although, well Jack just might very well kill him when he woke up and found him still here.

He was worried about his boss. Things hadn't been right for a few days now and this morning's carry on had confirmed it. In spite of attempting to seem unconcerned Jack had been distressed. Well who wouldn't be distressed after spending fifteen minutes feeling like they were being boiled to death in chip oil? The trouble was, Owen was nearly certain, especially when he took Ianto's comments about cleaning into account, that it wasn't the only distressing thing Jack had suffered from recently.

He was just nodding off when he thought he heard something. Feeling like a complete voyeuristic tosser he crept into Jack's office. Shining his torch carefully down the hatch he could see him. He was crying in his sleep.

It wasn't great noisy sobs; it was a heart breaking sound of utter despair. 'Oh god.' Owen murmured. Jack was curled foetal on top of the covers, still dressed except for his shoes. Oh dear god, what was he to do? Owen considered dropping down the hole and waking him up, but that would be such an invasion of privacy. After what he had done earlier, he knew he wouldn't be welcome.

There was no way Jack was going to want him to see him like this. He shouldn't be here. He thought of calling Ianto but decided against it. Jack wouldn't want Ianto to know about this either, and it certainly wasn't Owen's place to say anything. Besides, by the time Ianto got here, whatever unhappy dream Jack was having would probably be over. Not knowing what else to do, Owen went back to the couch. From here he could just about manage not to hear anything.

The manacles pulled him up short as he rolled over, waking him from his unhappy doze. He was so cold. He'd had a blanket once, but it had been taken off him a long time ago and right now he wanted it back desperately. He felt so ill and there was no comfort to be had in this awful cell with the filthy mattress and the metal manacles.

Curled on his side, conserving as much warmth as possible, his eyes focused on the raw skin showing under the metal cuffs at his wrists. It took several weeks for the manacles to chaff that much flesh from his wrists. They were raw, through to the tendons on his right arm. His ankles were nearly as bad. He couldn't see it but the metal ring around his neck had rubbed into his collar bones, he didn't have any flesh to cushion it. To leave him this long seemed to be a sign that The Master was tiring of finding ways to execute him. He knew he would come though and he would kill him again. Part of the torture was in not letting his victim have any sense of time.

Shifting miserably to try and find a comfortable position made him cough. His lungs were filling with fluid as his body shut down. His heart was having trouble pumping. The goons had been beating him, thoroughly and sadistically on a daily basis. The beatings were so severe that his regenerative abilities didn't stand a chance. Coughing was very bad, his broken ribs and torn lungs shrieked at the abuse, while the pressure it put on his damaged abdomen was equally as painful. The broken jaw and cheekbones also shifted giving him so much pain even his hair hurt. Fighting not to cough only made things worse and in the end he had to give in, passing for a time into a black world of agony.

When he came back to himself things weren't much better. He tried to find a happy thought to hold on to, but it was if he'd never ever had one. To think of his loved ones only brought pain. He was desperately worried about what was happening down below on Earth to the ones he had left behind. All he could do was hope that that comment The Master had made about the Himalayas was true and that they had been there when all hell broke loose. Somehow he illogically thought they had a better chance of surviving whatever it was that The Master had done to the planet somewhere out of the main population centres. That he would never see them again, he was already resigned to. There were so many people that he would never see again. The Doctor had faith in Martha Jones to do whatever it was he had sent her off to do. It was hard however to have any faith in the Doctor. Not now, not now he'd seen what The Master was doing to him.

He was so sick, he thought bleakly, if they didn't come and kill him soon he was going to die on his own. He was dieing, he could feel it. It wouldn't be long. And then, god, then he'd revive and it would happen all over again.

Please, though, please, could he have a blanket?

He heard steps in the corridor. Here they came, always the same two brutes. Large, subnormal, human. And another set of footsteps – The Master. The Master was coming! As he feared, the footsteps stopped outside his cell and keys turned in the locks. Instinctively he cringed back but the chains didn't let him move far. The door flung open and he shut his eyes against the sudden glare, then, before he could even brace himself boots were flying into his body, turning his insides to pulp.

'Enough,' said the familiar oily voice. The blows stopped but he kept his eyes shut. He struggled to stay conscious. Fear tightened his throat and twisted his gut. The Master was here, and that couldn't be good.

'Good morning Jack,' the Master said pleasantly. 'Oh my Jack, look at you. I didn't think it was possible to bring someone like you this low, but look at you now. Smell you. Can you smell yourself Jack? Those sewer creatures you've been fighting on your precious Earth, they smell better than you do now Jack. The mighty Captain Jack.' He gave a sardonic laugh.

'I've thought of a new one. A new way to kill you. And no it isn't to let you lie here rotting in your own filth. It must be possible to kill you somehow. Really kill you so that you don't come back. I've been thinking about it. It makes an interesting diversion and I need that.'

Jack heard the manacle chains being detached from the wall. One at a time all five chains that held him we transferred to the trolley they used to move him around. At no time did he have any chance of stopping the process or of overpowering anyone. He knew this now. He kept his eyes tight shut. He held on to his only defence. _I can't die. I can't die._

'Yes,' said the Master cheerily. 'I think this might be it.' The goons dragged him onto the trolley, the agony of their handling so great that he couldn't help but cry out. 'Of course,' the Master said from behind him, 'If it does work, I will miss it…' Jack lay there weakly, eyes tight shut '…our little sessions together. They have been very entertaining.'

The trolley ground to a halt in a large echoing place, the old aircraft hangar, The Master's favoured execution ground. He'd thought he wanted to die but now found he was afraid. Death was good. Death brought a respite, however short, from the pain and the terror. He'd found that as he got weaker, as his body got more damaged, and yes, as The Master got more inventive, it took longer to revive, and it took longer to recover. He fought against the panic that was rising in him. Death might be good, but dieing hurt. Dieing hurt terribly and he didn't think he was strong enough to do it again. The Master's voice was nearly drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. He was beyond comprehending the words. He could hear metallic noises and his imagination could come up with multiple explanations for them. He realised that another sound close at hand was whimpers coming from his own terror closed throat. _I can't die. I can't die. _The mantra filled his head but it didn't help.

And if he could die? If this time the Master had found a way? What then?

A hand grabbed his chin and he jumped with fright. His face was shaken, his broken face slapped, the pain so bad yet threatening of much worse to come. 'Open your eyes Jack. Look at me.' It was an order to be obeyed and with difficulty he did so. His right eye was swollen shut, the other just didn't want to open. The Master's face swam into his field of view. The cold dark eyes were turned up at the corners as the sadistic bastard smiled. 'Although I have enjoyed our sessions – who knew it could be so much fun to kill the same person over and over again, I have to leave this ship now and you are far too dangerous to have aboard, regardless of how well you are chained up. I have been saving this. And I must say; if it doesn't work, then I have had a rather special prison cell built especially. It would be much easier however, and cheaper, to have you dead.

'So,' he said, standing back. 'What do you think? Can you regenerate, or revive or whatever it is you do, if your head is separated from your body? This really will be most interesting.'

The largest goon was standing just behind the Master. He was wearing an executioner's mask and sharpening a large antique executioner's axe. His mate was manhandling a wooden chopping block across the floor.

Jack started to scream.

He screamed and fought as they brought the trolley across to the block. He was surprised how much strength still remained in his broken body. He fought as they moved the manacles to tie downs in the floor but it did no good. They positioned him with his head across the block, arms and legs pulled tight. The blood from his struggles was streaming from his wrists and ankles. The manacle around his neck was removed.

He kept screaming as the axe fell. Pain, shocking all encompassing pain filled him, the world tilted crazily, and he couldn't scream. No air moved. Pain - overwhelming. Complete and utter shock. This can't be. His vision dulled.

_I'm dieing._

_Reviving. No air, suffocating. Alive._

He was looking down. His headless manacled body still lay on the block, pallid and grey except for the vivid red blood still seeping from the stump of the neck into a bucket below the block. He was looking down, swinging around, The Master close, but slightly above. The Master's arm was... a hand in his hair, pulling… his head…The Master was holding his head in his hand. The horror of it hit him. No body… no breath… but Alive! No way to scream!

Dreadful cries rent through the hub startling Owen out of a fitful sleep and sending him racing back to the hatch. Peering down with his torch he could see Jack fling himself against the wall, across the room and back. The screaming intensified, a sound of terror. It was yesterday morning's burning incident all over again and Owen dropped down the hole to try to get to Jack before he'd even thought about what he was going to do. Even as he landed on the bed and dodged his completely demented boss, he knew he would have been better off to have collected his medical kit and prepared a sedative before he entered the room. The only light came from his torch and the little bit of light that filtered in from a powered down hub above the hatch. Dropping the torch onto the bed he crash tackled the other man, sending them both mashing into a desk on the opposite wall. 'Jack!' He shouted, trying to get through to the frightened man underneath him.

'Jack!' he shook him violently.

'Jack! Wake up. Wake up.' He held on tight as the body beneath him heaved; trying to escape, then suddenly he felt him go rigid. He gave a great spasm that threw Owen off and he screamed again, a sound so awful that Owen would never be able to forget it. He gave a gasp and a moaning cry. His body momentarily went limp then jerked up again, still trying to escape even as he awoke. In the dim light Owen couldn't see when awareness of his surroundings entered Jack's eyes but he gave another gasp, wrenched out of Owen's arms and moments later the sound of vomiting filled the room.

Owen scrambled to switch the light on then shot back to the man on the floor to try to help. Jack was violently ill. He was heaving so hard his entire body was involved in the effort. Jack was on his hands and knees but his arms were shaking with the effort of holding himself up. Owen got an arm around him, pulling him back against his own body for support. He could feel the other man's stomach muscles contracting with force. The smell was appalling and Owen's own stomach roiled. Stale alcohol as well as what was probably yesterday morning's tea and toast spattered all over the floor and walls. With a grimace Owen recognised another nuance to the smell - shit. 'Jesus Jack.'

There was little Owen could do. He knew that the attack would pass, eventually. In the mean time he tried to support his friend, take some of his weight, and as the spasms did slowly eased, he rubbed his back and made soothing sounds.

It was finally over and Jack hung in his arms, breathing like a steam train, exhausted. He slumped sideways to the floor, with a sob, deeply distressed. Owen pulled the cover off the bed and tucked it around him, a little startled as the crying intensified. He sat beside him, still making soothing shushing noises and patting his shoulder ineffectively. He looked at his watch. It was nearly eight in the morning.

The crying too eased. Jack just lay there.

'Jack?' Owen asked tentatively. Jack nodded by didn't speak. 'Let's get you cleaned up huh?' His leg had gone to sleep and he clambered up awkwardly. He went into the tiny bathroom and turned the shower on. He came back with a glass of water. Jack struggled up onto one arm and took it gratefully. He rinsed his mouth then paused. 'Just spit,' Owen indicated the floor. 'At this stage it's not as if it makes much difference.' He offered his hand. 'Come on.' He got Jack to his feet. 'Let's get tidied up before Ianto decides to come for a visit.' He peeled Jack's tee shirt over his head. 'I don't expect any of the others will come in on a Saturday, but Ianto is a real possibility.' Jack fumbled with his trousers, his face a mixture of embarrassment and pure disgust. He was trembling. 'It's all right Jack. These things happen. I'm a medic remember, I've seen it all before.'

Once undressed Jack just stood there, leaning on the wall, head down, shivering. After a moments thought Owen shed his own slightly nasty clothing and taking Jack's hand led him into the shower. Wrapping his arms around him he held Jack close, guiding him under the water and hugging him tight. After a brief reluctance Jack melted into him, his body a dead weight.

The shower stall, like everything else down the hatch was small. He was pretty sure Jack and Ianto got up to all sorts in this shower, but god knew how they managed, there just wasn't any room. At least it meant that both of them got wet at once. Finding a wash cloth and some rather posh soap he lathered the cloth and started to wash the other man. He washed thoroughly, one arm around Jack at all times, crooning into the hair against his cheek. Jack didn't resist, didn't respond in any way, just held on, arms tight around Owen, head buried against his shoulder. He moved his legs slightly to allow Owen access when he got that low. To Owen's initial relief which turned to slight concern when he thought about whose private parts he was washing, there was nothing sexual in the encounter at all. It was more like caring for a child. Owen finished off with shampoo and Jack had to lift his head to rinse it off. He gave Owen a shaky smile and made a visible effort to pull himself together. 'Thanks,' he whispered.

Owen looked at him assessing. 'What happened?' he asked.

Jack gave a wry smile. 'Hangover?' he suggested. His voice cracked and his attempt at a joke fell flat. 'Nightmare,' he stated flatly.

'Nightmare? Bloody hell,' Owen was incredulous. 'That was a full blown, force ten night terror!' He reached up and stroked Jack's face. 'The only other time I've seen anything like that was yesterday morning. Were you being boiled again?'

Jack swallowed and looked away. He shook his head and Owen pulled him back into his embrace. 'Decapitated,' he told Owen's neck. 'They cut my head off.'

'Bloody hell!' Of all the scenarios Owen had been preparing himself to hear, that wasn't one of them. He tightened his grip on Jack, holding him in the here and now.

'I revived,' Jack said, so quietly he could hardly hear him. 'I woke up, hanging from my hair with my body on the ground. I was alive, but I was just my head.'

'Oh Christ.' Owen's hands moved up, one wrapping into Jack's hair, the other on his neck, holding on to that precious head. 'Shhh. It's all right now. I've got you. It's all right. You're safe.' They didn't move again until the water started to go cold.

Jack moved first, his grip tightening on Owen briefly before he straightened up and moved away. 'Thank you,' he said sincerely. He turned the water off and stepped out. Pulling open a cupboard he threw a towel at Owen and started drying himself off. Owen watched him over his own towel. The light was back in his eyes but there was something that still wasn't right. 'Do you need some clothes?' Jack asked.

'Yes, ta. Though they won't fit very well.'

'No. Well, they'll do for now.' His voice was flat, trying hard for normal.

Jack had walked around the mucky bit of floor and was hauling clothes out of a closet and throwing them on the bed. 'Some pants there,' he said 'and the tee shirt will be fine.' He pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt himself and started ratting around for socks. He saw Owen watching him. 'I need to get out,' he explained.

'You're going running?'

'Yes.'

'Fifteen minutes ago you couldn't even hold yourself up.'

'I need to get out,' Jack said stubbornly. He grabbed his running shoes and shot up the ladder as if he thought Owen was going to stop him.

Owen went after him which wasn't easy holding a towel. 'Jack. Hold on.'

'I'm going Owen.' Jack had his foot on the desk doing up his shoe.

'No that's fine,' he held his hand up to placate him. 'Just wait a minute.' He went out to his workstation and grabbed the GPS pin. 'Here,' he pinned it onto his shirt.

'What?' Jack said, recognised the tracking device. 'You want to track me?'

'Not really. But when the trace stops, I can come and pick you up.' He gave a grin. 'Save you having to terrorise another cab driver.'

Jack gave a genuine smile. 'Thanks.'


	5. Chapter 5

A big talky bit this time sorry, but it had to be done. Action again next time - promise.

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Nearly two hours later Owen pulled the SUV into the curb by a hill top play ground in one of the posh northern suburbs

Nearly two hours later Owen pulled the SUV into the curb by a hill top play ground in one of the posh northern suburbs. This was somewhere he didn't come very often. He checked the odometer and whistled. Jack was sitting on a swing, hunched against the cold wind. He made no sign of moving so Owen got out and went to him. He had brought Jack's coat and draped it around his shoulders before sitting on the other swing. 'Thanks.' Jack smiled at him.

'Only another ten ks and you'd have run a marathon. If you'd have stuck to the flat you'd have got further.'

'I wanted to come here. Second time I've run here in three days.'

'Bloody hell. How do you feel?'

Jack grinned. 'I can hardly hold myself up.' He indicated the stream behind them. 'There's a spring up there.' He shrugged. 'It's a special place.'

'Is that the spring your witches told you about yesterday?'

Jack grinned. 'Yep, that's the one.'

'So this is where you came the day before yesterday too?'

'Shut up Owen.' He indicated the city spread out below them. 'Look at that.' The rain of the last few days had finally moved on. The sky was pale blue with wisps of high cloud scudding across it, propelled by a bitterly cold wind. The city looked fresh and new. 'That's what we're here for,' Jack said. 'Think of all those people down there, blissfully going about their lives in ignorance of the bad things that can come at them out of the Rift. That's what we're here for.' He gave a wry smile. 'Sometimes it helps to come places like this and remember that.'

'Jack,' Owen said. He'd been stewing on this and he had to say it. 'I'm really sorry about what I said last night, when you came home. I was out of order.'

Jack looked at him. 'Oh. Right. Yes, you were. I'd also forgotten about it so… I don't know if I should thank you for reminding me.'

Owen grimaced. Bugger.

Jack shrugged. 'Don't worry, I think you made up for it by what you did for me this morning. Are doing for me,' he corrected himself, indicating the vehicle. 'It means a lot. It really does.'

They sat quietly, looking at the view. It was freezing and Owen huddled into his coat, but if Jack needed to be here that was fine. They would stay as long as he needed. Owen had spent the time after Jack left cleaning and scheming. The room under the hatch now reeked of pineocleen disinfectant, with only the merest hint of vomit remaining. There was a load of washing going and he'd found Ianto's stash of linen and replaced the quilt cover. His mind however had had plenty of time to think, and stew.

As a medic he felt totally inadequate. Post traumatic stress, which he was sure this was, was way beyond his knowledge base and he didn't know what to do about getting Jack the help he so obviously needed. He could not let something like this morning happen to him again but short of complete sedation, which just wasn't a sensible option he didn't know what to do. Yesterday, going over the burning incident he had thought he had known what the problem was and what to do about it, but after this morning he didn't know anymore.

He had come up with one semi reasonable idea. He needed to get Jack to a properly trained professional. If they used the cover story of the witness protection scheme then the psychologist would naturally assume that anything Jack couldn't confide would be because of that, he would probably also assume that whatever it was, was really bad. Which it was, and that might be enough. There were drugs that helped in cases like this, but Owen just didn't know enough to prescribe them himself, and it you got them wrong then they had the potential to do serious harm.

Jack slid his arms into his coat sleeves and drew it tightly around him. He was cold again, but it was a good cold. His body was still tingling from his run and the cold air on his skin was invigorating. He had visited the spring again, marvelling at the way a sense of calm came over him when he was here. Owen had arrived only minutes after he came back to the playground to wait. He must have been trailing him. He was grateful. He was grateful for Owen's response this morning and for caring enough to not leaving him to sit in the cold for half an hour when his legs finally gave out and his body chuntered to an exhausted stop. It had been really hard getting all the way up the hill today, he wasn't sure he was going to make it this time. The traumas of the last few days had really taken things out of him.

During the run he'd made a decision. He needed to know what had happened to him, what his memories were that he'd ret-conned out. He needed to know, damn it, really needed to know, if he had been beheaded. To find that out he had to get Owen to give him the disc. He'd been thinking about the best way to go about it and decided on the truth.

Owen was swinging gently. 'I need to ask you something,' Jack told him. 'I think,' he paused unsure how to frame things. 'These nightmares, they don't feel like ordinary dreams.' Owen's eyes were fixed on him. 'I think they're memories.' He fished the envelope out of his pocket. 'I…' It was awkward. 'I found this on my pillow, about three months ago. I wrote it, but I don't remember. I'd taken retcon to forget something terrible. But I'd given you a disc…' Owen's face showed nothing but compassion. 'Did I give you a disc? About three months ago. I need it. I… I need to know what it says.'

Owen put his feet down and stopped swinging. He turned to face him. 'Well thank god you brought that up.' Jack was confused. This wasn't what he'd been expecting. 'Because I thought I was going to have to say something myself, but I didn't know how to do it.' He came and stood in front of Jack. 'I'm not going to give you the disc, you really don't need to see it,' he held a hand up to stall arguments and pulled a sheaf of folded sheets of paper out of an inside jacket pocket. 'But, I've got a print out here. I made a précis of what was on it. It's a lot less traumatic than reading the original believe me.'

Jack gaped at him gobsmacked. 'You looked at it?!' He couldn't believe it. Hadn't he told Owen just to hide it, and not to look?

'Yeah.' Owen seemed nearly blasé about it. 'I can't really believe that you ever thought I wouldn't? You were a total mess, but even so.'

I don't remember, Jack thought. If I gave something like that to Owen now, what would he do? He shuddered. Of course he'd look. His state of mind must have been dreadful, he really hadn't been functioning if he'd thought the younger man wouldn't look.

Owen was still explaining. 'It was such a weird thing for you to do, giving me that disc, of course I read it. I… actually we, didn't know what was wrong with you but we knew something was and we couldn't seem to do anything to help.' Jack felt strange, he had had no idea that anyone had noticed anything about him at all. 'We didn't know where you'd been or what had happened but it had obviously been a really bad time. Then you bring me this disc, and you were acting so strange. In anyone else I would have thought you were suicidal and wrapping up your affairs. I was really worried, I wondered if maybe you were trying to kill yourself, somehow, so that you stayed dead. Then the next day, it was as if you were a new person.' He turned and reached out to him. 'I looked at the disc Jack. I read what happened to you. I haven't shared it with any of the others either in case you were wondering.' His voice turned soothing. 'You did the right thing. Right then, I think you were nearly going under. I think retcon was the right thing to do. I wish you'd come to me though. If I'd known what you were going through I would have helped. I could have tweaked the formula a little, make it safer. Although you do seem to have got it mostly right.' Jack smiled at that, high praise from Owen

'But now,' Owen was earnest again. 'I think you're right. I think the nightmares have something to do with things and I don't know what to do.'

'Why? What do you mean? Just let me look at the sheet?'

'No.' He held it out of reach. 'No Jack. You can't just play with retcon like that. Sure you might regain bits of memory naturally, but you erased a year's worth of very painful memories.' He paused and turned to face him. 'Do you know how retcon works? I mean really works, not just what it does?'

'You mean how does it make the memories disappear?'

'Exactly.'

Jack shook his head. 'Not really. It's some sort of chemical block.' He shook his head. 'I hadn't thought of it.'

'Yes, well, that's what we've got scientists for isn't it.' Owen puffed his chest out a little. 'It doesn't make the memories disappear. It hides them. It's like erasing files from a computer, but they're still there somewhere if you know how to find them. Right?'

Jack nodded his understanding.

'Okay, well it's not quite like that.' He sat back down on the swing. 'It's more like the access pathways to that information have been blocked, but the effect is the same. As you know, some thing can trigger a memory to surface, generally something has got around the block and the brain remembers that it knows this. It's usually small stuff, a small incident, and we don't usually use retcon for anything more than a few weeks memories at the most. The trouble is Jack, you do that on a large scale, rewire lots of memories… then suddenly access them, you screw up the brain's memory circuits. Well basically,' he was deadly serious now, 'you're fucked!'

'Oh.'

'Yes, oh. Artificially induced Alzheimer's.'

'Shit.' Jack could feel a headache coming on. He took a deep breath. 'What can I do?'

'I need to go away and think a little, you'll have to tell me exactly what formulation you took and I should be able to work out how badly you might react if you start remembering. In the mean time I think I can tell you a little of what happened. It shouldn't be any worse than hearing a horror story but I don't want to get in to specifics, and I'll need to make sure to keep you away from situations that might trigger memories.'

'Like what?'

Abruptly Owen stood up. 'Can we go and sit in the car? It's freezing out here.'

'Yeah sure,' he stood but stopped, suddenly suspicious. 'Why?'

Owen turned back to look at him. 'Because if you do wig out, I want you in the car so I can at least get you off this hill and back to some help.'

Ah. He added vaguely sick to the headache. Then he stood up and staggered. Exhaustion got added to the list as well.

Once in the car Owen asked. 'Are you sure you really want to know this?'

Jack could feel his heart pounding. The sickness racked up a notch and he felt faint. He'd had no idea retcon could be so bad, so scary. 'I don't know,' he said honestly. 'You're freaking me out a little. According to the note I was trying to avoid going mad and it sounds like I'm just made it even more likely. Do you think I need to?'

'Yeah. I think there is something you need to know.' Owen took a deep breath and put a hand on his shoulder. 'I'm going to try and do this as controlled as I can. Jack, stop me if you're not comfortable. Okay? If you want me to stop I will. You just say.' Owen's earnest face suddenly changed into a wide grin. A moment later Jack got it too, the usual use for the words Owen had just spoken. He started to laugh and Owen joined in, both of them roaring with mirth. 'I never thought I'd ever say that to Jack Harkness,' Owen hiccoughed.

'A first time for everything,' Jack agreed. He felt much better, relieved. He knew he could handle what was going to happen. 'It's okay,' he told Owen. He sniggered. 'Just do it. I'll stop you if I have to.'

Owen squeezed his arm, sobering. He took a few breaths to compose himself then started the story. He told Jack of the year that wasn't, that year that Jack had ret-conned from his mind. 'You weren't away three months Jack, you were away a year.'

Jack nodded, he knew that from the note he'd left himself.

'This guy, The Master, he killed you, quite early in the piece and that of course showed him how special you were when you didn't stay dead.' Owen was shaking his head from side to side, he couldn't look at him.

Jack tested his feelings, his mind. Everything seemed fine so far. 'Go on,' he said.

'The bastard had a thing for medieval type tortures. He had a go at most of the common ones and invented a few others.' Owen took a deep breath. He'd gone pale. 'Then he started modifying things.' He shut his eyes and leaned back into the seat. 'I can't believe you survived through this,' he waved the pages, 'and came back as undamaged as you did.' He looked at Jack again, his dark eyes full of tears. 'You're a strong man Jack Harkness.'

Jack carefully probed that thought. Medieval tortures, well that would explain the executioners axe rather than a more modern way of separating a head from a body. He swallowed. He couldn't bring himself to ask the obvious question so he asked another one instead. 'Did he keep me chained in a cell?'

'Yes.'

'With manacles?'

'Hand, foot and round the neck.'

Jack took a hitching breath. He felt his stomach sink. 'So it's true then,' he whispered.

'Was that in the dream?' Owen asked. He grabbed his arm, and Jack realised he'd been running his hands around invisible manacles.

'Oh.' He splayed his fingers and rested his hands on his knees, his bare hairy knees he noted. The coat hadn't stayed wrapped when he'd sat down in the car. 'Manacles, yes.' He pulled his coat back around him. 'And a cold nasty cell with just a thin mattress and nothing else.' He looked at Owen but didn't really see him. 'I wanted a blanket but they'd taken it away. It was so cold.'

'Jack.' Owen had hold of his hand. 'Look at me.' He waited until his eyes focused. 'In the dream, you said you'd been beheaded, right?'

Jack nodded, filled with dread.

'He did all sorts of dreadful things to you. God,' Owen swallowed, 'just awful, but,' Owen waved the pages. 'According to what you wrote,' he squeezed his hand, 'beheading wasn't one of them.'

Jack let out a cry. The world seemed to lurch and he tried to process what Owen had just said. He took some gasping breaths and fought back tears. 'He didn't… I wasn't...?'

'No,' said Owen

'So, it really was a dream?'

Owen smiled weakly. 'Nearly. I think your subconscious found some of the memories of captivity and maybe grafted on something else dreadful to go with it. I don't know. And I don't know why. I don't know this stuff, it isn't my field.'

Owen ratted through the centre console and found a pack of tissues. He pulled out a couple, blew his own nose and passed the packet to Jack. 'Are you doing okay?'

'I think so,' other than a shocking headache, nausea and a world that had just jolted out of orbit. 'I don't seem to be losing my mind. And I'm not remembering anything either.'

'Good.' The grip on his hand tightened. 'There is something though, that I think you do need to know.'

A sudden shrill blast of sound echoed through the car.

'Jesus!'

'Fuck!'

They both jumped a foot in the air. Owen's phone was ringing. He fumbled through his coat pockets until he found it. 'It's Tosh.' He answered it. 'What? I'm busy here,' he said brusquely. He screwed up his face as he listened. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' He was holding up a hand as though he could stop the words. 'Okay, I've said I'm sorry. Yes. All right.' He was obviously getting a bollocking for something, probably from the way he'd answered the phone. 'Hang on. Look I'm with Jack. Just a minute. I'll put you on the hands free, hang on.' He plugged the phone into the cable and put it on the dash board. 'Okay, go ahead.'

'Hi Jack.'

'Tosh.'

'I've found him,' her voice said excitedly.

'Who?' asked Owen. Jack was content just to sit and listen.

'Our criminal. Mr Crispy Critter. The Phantom Frier.' Both men winced. 'At least I think it's him. There was another camera,' she explained before they could ask. 'He missed it because it was on another circuit. It belongs to the pharmacy across the hall. I've got him coming in. He had the body in a cleaner's trolley.'

'That's great work Tosh,' Jack said leaning towards the microphone. 'How long do you think it will take you to track back and see if you can find where he came from?'

'It shouldn't take me long but I can't say exactly.'

'Okay, you keep on it. Owen and I are heading back to the hub now. We'll see you there.'

'Ahh. Okay,' Tosh said and hung up.

Owen looked at Jack amused. 'She's not at the hub you know. She's at home.'

'She is? How can she do all of that from home?'

'Tosh has got herself well set up. She's nearly duplicated her work station in her lounge.'

'You're kidding?'

Owen shook his head. 'Nope.' He turned on the vehicle and flipped it into gear.

'Jesus,' Jack muttered. 'Don't any of you guys have a life?'

'Not really. Look, can we drop past my place on the way. I really don't want to have to go chasing criminals wearing your pants. They just don't feel right.'

Jack snorted. 'Fine. Only if we stop at the café at the bottom of the hill first? I need to eat something.'

'Do they do pastries?'

Twenty minutes later they were just pulling away from Owen's when his phone rang again. 'I've got him,' Tosh's voice told them. 'Guess what he does for a living?'

'Chip shop?'

'Nearly, but not quite. He sells bulk foodstuffs and equipment for the restaurant trade. He's got a warehouse in Kelburn.'

'So what do you want to bet he's got cooking oil and industrial size deep fryers in that warehouse?'

'He might have another victim. There's a McDonald's employee reported missing, didn't come home after his shift last night.'

'I see what you're thinking,' Owen said admiringly. 'Think we should go take a look?' He turned to his boss. 'Jack?'

'Hell yes. Tosh, are you still at home?'

'Um. Yes.'

'Good. You're the closest. Can you get hold of Gwen, get her to meet you there. Wait for us to arrive. Go somewhere obvious to us but out of sight of the warehouse. Get Ianto to go in to the hub and work the cameras, it should only take him five minutes to get there. We'll be…' he glanced at his watch and calculated… ' fifteen minutes. Make the meeting place west of the warehouse, we'll find you. We've got spare headsets in the vehicle so we'll sort ourselves when we get there.'

Jack looked at Owen. 'What?'

Owen still hesitated.

'Go,' he ordered.

'Er, don't you want to go back and get dressed?'

'I've got my running shoes on. I'm guessing I'll need to do some running. I'll be fine. I've got a pair of pants I could put on but I don't think I'll bother.' He held out the trousers Owen had just given back to him.

'Weapons?'

'There are the stun guns in the back. That should be all we need.'

'Okay.' Owen was looking at him sideways even as he swung the vehicle round and into the main road.

He rolled his eyes. 'I'm fine Owen. I want this bastard and I do NOT want anyone else frying to death.'

'With you on that one.'

'Was that what you wanted to tell me, before Tosh rang the first time?'

'What?'

'That I've been fried in oil?'

Owen looked sick. 'Yeah.'

'And you're not going to try and stop me being in on this?'

'I thought about it but I didn't see myself getting very far. Anyway, as far as triggering memories, it seems to me, you've already remembered this one. It would be unlikely for you to remember anything else, unless something happens like you actually go and get yourself burnt.'

Jack nearly rolled his eyes. 'I'll try not to.'

'Look Jack,' Owen took his eyes off the road to look at him. 'If I ever say stop, don't go there, don't do that… Not just today, anytime… please stop.'

'Aw come on. I'm not going to spend my life waiting for you to pull me in.'

'No, of course not. But I haven't had a chance to look into this, I don't know what it might do to you and I might be able to fix things. I need time to do research. But in the mean time, please listen to me. I'm guessing you don't want to go through eternity insane.'

'I think that,' Jack said dryly, 'is why I did it in the first place.'

'So,' Owen said, throwing the vehicle into a sharp left as he overshot a turn. 'Are you all right to do this now? I mean physically. You've had sod all sleep, you should be hungover, you vomited your ring off and you've run a bloody half marathon.

'I think I've just about had enough of hearing from the medic. I'm bloody fine. Let's just go find this fuck. Then maybe I can go home and get some sleep.'

And saying that had taken just about all the energy he could muster but it did seem to put Owen off the track. All he really wanted to do was go home, have a cup of tea and lie down on his bed. Really, just lie there. However, he had a personal involvement in this case, well what a surprise. He would not be able to bear it if some other poor bastard got boiled alive. Hoping like hell that his body could hold it together he pulled his Captain persona around him like his coat and prepared to go into battle.


	6. Chapter 6

Nightmares6

Real life seems to be getting in the way with getting on with this. It has also grown to be much bigger than my original concept which was something like 3 dreams with a chance to ache for Jack, then some sort of resolution. We're still going on that plan, it's just taking more words than I thought it would

BTW - I saw the new Batman movie the other day and am now not nearly so keen on the following scenario as I was when i first thought of it. If you've seen that movie then read this I think you might know what I mean.

I have also had problems the other night, DIC of a potato peeler and took the top of my nail and the soft pad of my finger off my left hand little finger. It hurt!! And even with loads of bandaids covering it, it still hurt too much to type. And you need that finger for the left side shift key and particularly the letter a. Try typing Jack without your little left finger. It's better now by the way, turned out to not be a very large wound at all after a few days.

WARNING - graphic stuff coming plus I'm afraid Tosh gets hurt in this too. I'm sorry, but she is only collateral damage and this is really Jack's story.

Didn't get any reviews from the last chapter at all. How about making up for that now.

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Ianto Jones was spending his Saturday morning watching his eight year old neighbour's rugby game

Ianto Jones was spending his Saturday morning watching his eight year old neighbour's rugby game. He did it every Saturday that he could. It had started when the kid's mum Naomi had broken her ankle and been unable to drive. Dad was away from home a lot and Naomi, the neighbour, who was very sweet, had really struggled with getting her and her kids to places. Ianto had offered to help with the rugby run and found that he really enjoyed it. Jayden was so keen to show off and been delighted to have him there. Naomi had been so grateful. Plus it had been so wonderful to be on the sidelines with all the parents shouting encouragement while the children chased up and down the paddock like a collection of puppies. It felt so ordinary and very real. There was the thought that all over the city, all over the world actually, people spent their Saturdays like this. It was so good to be part of it.

Today particularly he was pleased to be here because he just knew that Jack bloody Harkness would be suffering from a huge hangover and really hoping that someone, namely him, would come and sooth his brow. And fucked if that wasn't the last thing he wanted to do, Ianto thought savagely.

Jayden's mate Wally had just made a huge run up the outside before being forced out just before the try line. Bloody Harkness had been out on the pull last night, Ianto knew it. He wasn't going dancing, that was flaming obvious, not the vertical variety any way and Ianto was much more upset about it than he had thought he would be. The coaches were trying to get the kids into some semblance of a line out only three metres from the try line. The score was one try each and there were less than five minutes to play. He was not pleased when his phone rang. When he heard what Tosh had to say though he sprang into action.

'I have to go,' he told Naomi, brandishing the phone. 'Sorry, work.'

'Oh damn,' she commiserated. 'Poor you. Don't worry, I'll tell you what happens.' She planted a kiss on his cheek and sent him off with her usual farewell. 'Stay safe Ianto Jones.'

One day, Ianto mused, Naomi might actually realise what a shit she was married to and pick him instead. He watched young Wally grab the ball and make a leap across the line to score. The parents erupted in cheers. And one day young Wally might be playing for Wales and make a move just like that scoring against the All Blacks. That thought made him very happy.

Ianto hit the power switches as he entered the hub, heading straight for Tosh's computer terminal. It would be easier to work from here. He wrinkled his nose. There was a strong smell of disinfectant wafting through the place. Jack must have been having one of his cleaning fits. He could vaguely smell that revolting stuff that Owen had been playing with too. Such a shame there was no way to let fresh air into this place. He grabbed a headset and promptly forgot about it. 'Is anyone out there yet,' he enquired.

'Ianto?'

'Jack.'

'I'm just getting the computers on line. Tosh, are you there? Have you got the co-ordinates?'

'We haven't joined them yet Yan. The warehouse is in Barrington Street, Kelburn, you should be able to find something around there. There are a lot of similar buildings and most of them have CCTV these days.' He typed in the street name and pulled up the CCTV cameras in the vicinity. He was just in time to see the SUV sweep into a parking lot where Tosh's car was waiting. 'We've just found Tosh… oh, and here comes Gwen…'

'I see you.'

'We'll take a minute or two to gear up. See what you can see. I think the warehouse is the one next to the one with the dumpster.'

On the screen the black vehicle's doors opened and Jack and Owen got out. If they were the good guys, Ianto wondered, not for the first time, why did they have such a sinister looking vehicle. He peered at the screen. He enlarged the image. It looked to him like Jack didn't have any pants on.

Tosh came on line once she'd got a headset. 'Ianto, I've got my lap top with me, there's a much larger power usage in this building than from any of the others around it. Can you see if you can find how long it's been running like that?

'On it.'

'Right,' she started instructing the others. 'I've got the plans and there are several rooms in there besides the main warehouse which is open space. I suspect they are living quarters. They're on the left through the main doors. I tracked our man here from the CCTV from the mall but I don't know if he lives in here or not. He was here this morning but he left just before I got here.'

On the screen Ianto could see them all look around. 'I'll be watching,' he told them, 'Don't worry, I can see most of the approaches to the place. If he comes back we should know.'

'Have we got a name?' Jack asked.

'No,' Tosh answered, 'I haven't had a chance to do that yet.'

'Okay, but you think he may have a hostage?'

'Yes. There is a sixteen year old kid missing, Connor Smith. He works in the McDonalds just over that way. He never came home from his shift.'

'And you're making a connection because of deep fat frying and fast food?' Gwen asked cynically.

'Yes,' Tosh defended. 'Plus the placing of the body in the food court.'

'It doesn't matter,' Jack shut down the argument. 'What matters is that there may be another victim. I agree with Tosh, it's possible. And therefore we need to get in there right now. If he snatched the kid last night I doubt he's killed him yet, he's probably savouring the thought of what he's going to do. And besides,' Jack said in a voice that gave Ianto the chills, 'it takes at least twelve hours to bring that amount of oil to the boil.'

'Jack,' Gwen asked. 'Why are you dressed like that?' Ianto wondered if she felt the need to change the subject.

'I was out running, all right?'

'Aren't you cold?'

'Not particularly. Look can we get on with this. I want to go home for a shower.'

'Okay, sorry. I was just wondering.'

'Tosh, how many ways in and out?'

'Just two I think, the main warehouse door and a door into the living quarters. They're both at the front. I don't think there's a back door.'

'Okay, we'll go in pairs. Owen and Gwen, in the main door, looks like there's one of those manhole doors in it. Find what he's got in there. Tosh with me, we'll search the living quarters. Our first priority is to rescue any victim; evidence gathering comes much further down the list. Be careful. Keep your mikes open and keep in touch.'

And that told Ianto that Jack was actually frightened of what might be in there. He keyed his own mike. 'No one around,' he told them, 'but you need to move because there's a road sweeper coming into the street. It'll be about five minutes until he's right outside.'

'Okay,' Jack said, 'let's go.'

Ianto ran another sweep of all cameras showing the street, moving out to those showing the approaches. Not much movement, a few open doors and vehicles moving, but essentially, not much doing. It was Saturday morning after all. He mused on kids growing up to play rugby and wished he'd followed his instincts to keep playing once he'd left school, but he'd had a girlfriend at the time who hadn't liked it, thought it was thuggish.

He focused back in on the target building as Jack and Tosh went in. Owen seemed to be having a little trouble opening the manhole door in the large roller door. Then they were in. 'Keep talking to me people,' Jack's voice said. 'What can you see?'

'Bloody great stacks of crates,' Owen answered. 'Lined up either side of a central walkway. You?'

Gwen said, 'There's a van parked by the door. It's empty.'

'Looks like he has been living here,' Tosh said. 'Ooo. Christ that stinks.'

'Not very choosy on what he eats,' Jack added.

'That's not…?' Tosh sounded appalled.

'Owen look,' Gwen's voice

'I don't know,' said Jack.

'There's a hell of a lot of trash in here.'

'Up there.'

'What?'

Owen suddenly shouted. 'Hello. Is there anyone there?'

'What?'

'Where?'

'Shut up. Just shut up. Listen.'

'There,' Gwen said 'I heard it. Hello?'

'Where?'

'Jack, there's a mezzanine above the main floor here. I can't see a way up.'

Ianto suddenly spotted something. 'Guys, there's someone just entered the yard at the back. Keep it down. He might be able to hear you.'

'Quiet down people.'

'There's definitely someone up there.' Owen sounded excited. 'Can you see anything?

'There don't seem to be any steps up round here.' That was Tosh. It was so frustrating not to be able to see anything. Maybe they should look at getting cameras on their headsets, it shouldn't be hard; cameras were so small these days.

'I've got to get up there,' Owen said. 'If I can get up on to that box…'

'No,' Gwen said, 'that one. Then you can jump over to that strut.'

'What do you think I am, Superman?'

'Maybe.'

'What is that smell?'

'Chips?'

'More like someone's cooking goat.'

'Oo. That can't be good.'

'Guys,' Ianto suddenly panicked. 'The bloke out the back. I can't see him. I think he must have come inside. I thought you said there wasn't a back door?'

'Shit.'

It went quiet.

Ianto could hear Owen grunt. Was he climbing the wall to get to the mezzanine? He could hear one or more of the others breathing too, the microphones were very sensitive.

'Jack, there is a back door,' Tosh said, very quietly. 'I just found it.'

'Careful everyone.'

Quiet.

Just breathing. Slight scuffling sounds.

'Oh Fuck!' Owen said quietly. 'We're in the right place all right. There is a big stainless steel tub, cooker thing up here. It's full of oil and it's bloody hot.'

'Why put it up there. It must be really heavy?' Gwen being practical.

'Shh,' Jack warned them.

'Oh God!' Owen's voice suddenly. 'Connor? Guys he's here. We need an ambulance. Shh, it's all right now. You're safe now. It's all right.'

'Hey!' Tosh suddenly shouted. 'Jack, over here.'

'Hey. Stop.' Jack's breathing hitched up as he started to run. 'Gwen, heading your way. Coming through by those big boxes.'

There was a pandemonium of shouting.

You! Hey. What?

'No!!' Gwen yelled.

Then suddenly there were screams.

Every one of them felt that what happened was entirely their fault.

Connor just knew that his mum had been right all along and that it wasn't good to walk with headphones over your ears. She'd always said you couldn't tell what was happening around you and she turned out to be absolutely right. He hadn't heard the guy coming, hadn't realised anything was wrong until suddenly he'd been grabbed and bundled into a van.

Ianto knew that he should have realised the guy going into the yard was going inside. More than that though, he knew that if he'd thrown a wobbly last night Jack would have come home with him, he would have woken up with him, and more likely than not he could have talked him out of going off chasing this criminal without proper police back up.

Owen's thoughts were much the same. He should have stopped Jack from racing off half cocked when Tosh told them where their guy was. He also couldn't believe he hadn't realised what the set up in the place was. As Gwen had said, why would you put that heavy vat up there?

Gwen felt she should have been able to catch the guy before he tripped the lever and was devastated that when she did realise that the roof was about to fall that she couldn't stop Tosh from tearing underneath it.

Tosh couldn't believe she had been so stupid as to not realise there was a back door and to leave the video surveillance up to Ianto.

Jack of course knew it was all his fault. He'd got too personally involved in something that he shouldn't have been involved with in the first place. He'd raced in without any due diligence, without checking the place out, without weapons and without trousers and the cost seemed to be something he deserved. But not the cost to Toshiko.

Jack and Tosh however weren't thinking of anything coherently for quite some time.

Owen was digging for his pocket knife to remove the kid's flexicuffs when he heard Gwen scream 'No.' at the same moment that he felt the floor drop out from under his feet. Flinging himself forward he scrabbled for purchase as the edge of the mezzanine and one and a half cubic metres of near boiling oil plummeted to the floor below. Hanging on for dear life as his legs dangled in space he heard Jack, Tosh and Gwen scream. Christ it had got them all.

Then Gwen was shouting and Jack and Tosh were making dreadful crying noises. With a great heave he got back up on to what was left of the mezzanine. Forgetting the kid he went racing for the wall and the quickest route to the floor. Jack and Tosh were writhing in a flood of oil. The cooking vat lay shattered by Tosh's head. He could smell the burning. Dear god. Dear God!

'Tosh! Toshiko!' Dropping to the floor he raced to her, the oil still dreadfully hot under his knees, burning his hands as he dropped down beside her. There were voices roaring in his head. She was conscious, her eyes open staring at him in agony and shock, her face bright red, her mouth open in a dreadful scream that didn't seem to make a sound. Oh Christ! She was terribly burnt.

What to do?

You're a doctor, you should know what to do, but seeing her lying there like that, he couldn't think. 'Tosh. God Tosh.' He grabbed her, dragged her out of the oil onto the cold concrete. The voices in his head suddenly made sense. The headset. Gwen shouting Jack's name, shouting his name, asking what to do, Ianto panicking, shouting, wanting to know what was happening.

'Water,' he called out to Gwen. 'Cold water. Go find water. A hose, a bucket, wet towels, cold milk, anything. Quickly.' Oh God, the headset. He grabbed Tosh's head set to find it too hot to touch. Swearing, cursing, he grabbed it anyway and ripped it out of her ear. She screamed.

Ianto was shouting at him. Racing over to Jack he grabbed the shoulders of his coat and dragged him across the floor. He ripped the burning head set out of his ear as well. Jack favoured what in Owen's opinion was a wanky and pretentious version of the headset. It was heavier than the ones the others used and sat along his jaw line. When Owen pulled it off the skin along the length of the thing came away with it. Jack roared, convulsed in agony as Gwen raced back with a bucket of water and tea towels. 'Get their clothes off,' he yelled. 'They're holding the heat in.' He wrenched Jack out of his coat as Gwen moved to Tosh, noted that the burns were worse on Jack's right side, doused a towel and squeezed it over Jack's head, dropped it over his arm, did it again. Did it again.

He noticed the watch strap on Jack's right arm, went to remove it and remembering the headset thought better of it, more water, cool it down, 'Cool them down,' he told Gwen. They were both of them splashing water, both of them shocked.

'Ianto,' he finally had the energy to say, 'shut up. Shut up, I can't think. I need to work. Call an ambulance. Serious scald burns, oh,' he remembered Connor upstairs, 'and a hostage. Call the police. They need to find this bastard.' Standing up he took the bucket and poured half of the water left over Jack and the rest of it over Tosh. 'More water,' he told Gwen.

Breathing hard he moved back to Tosh. She was in a really bad way, her skin already peeling away from her face and neck, her breath coming in pants of pain. He tried to find somewhere to touch her that wouldn't hurt. 'It's all right,' he tried to soothe, 'an ambulance is coming. You'll be all right. You'll be fine.' Her eyes were open but he wasn't sure if she could see him, locked in a world of pain. He was working desperately hard at staying calm, he needed to think, but seeing her like this was killing him. 'It's a good sign it hurts so much,' he told her desperately. 'It means the burns are shallow. They'll heal well.'

'Owen,' Ianto's voice sounded coolly detached in his ear. 'Ambulance and police on way. ETA for both around ten minutes. Okay?' The okay wasn't quite so cool.

Pouring more water over Tosh's face, trying not to drown her Owen finally had a moment to fill Ianto in on what had happened. Thinking slightly more clearly now he knew what Ianto was going to say before he said it. 'Jack can't go to hospital.'

Christ, no he couldn't. Of course he couldn't.

Gwen went racing for the SUV while Owen heaved the main door open. He went back to try and brief Jack but wasn't sure he understood. His uninjured left hand was clenching, unclenching as he squirmed on the floor, his eyes like Toshiko's seeing only pain. Jesus. Owen was scared. How was his mind coping with this?

'Ianto,' he shouted, 'can you play with the traffic lights, slow the ambulance down? It's going to be hard to shift him.'

'Already on it,' Ianto informed him.

He went back to Tosh as Gwen backed in through the door. 'Tosh, darling, I have to go look after Jack. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I can't come with you to the hospital. Gwen will be with you. She'll make sure they look after you.' He pressed a gentle kiss onto the back of her hand. 'I'll come as soon as I can.'

He raced to the back of the SUV, threw it open and realised that there was no way he could fit an injured man in there. The vehicle had started out in life as a Range Rover and although it was large, when you added all the equipment they carried, well it hadn't been designed as an ambulance. The front seat seemed like the best option.

'Sorry Jack.' He started dragging him up by his left arm, steeling himself against his agonised cries. This was far, far worse than what had happened yesterday. This time he could see the burns.

'Owen,' shouted Ianto in his ear. 'Two minutes. Hurry up.'

'No time to be gentle.' Jack tried to help, tried to get his feet underneath him, but as Owen got an arm around him, the pain was just too great, he was too weak. He cried out and Owen found himself struggling with a dead weight. 'Gwen!' She was already there and between them they managed to jumble him into the front seat. Owen yanked on the seat recliner, Gwen pushed his legs in and Owen sprinted for the driver's door.

'Just a minute,' Gwen shouted.

'What?'

'Turning off the main road,' Ianto said.

'Shit!'

Gwen flung Jack's coat and the gory head set through the door. 'Go,' she shouted. 'Go,' a little more gently. 'I'll look after her. You look after him.' They could hear the sirens.

Owen shut the door and floored it out of there, leaving behind Toshiko, writhing in agony on the floor.

As he turned out of the end of the road he heard Gwen's voice in his ear greeting the police. Three streets away he pulled into an alley way and did his best to make Jack more comfortable, straightening his limbs out and rolling his own jacket into a pillow to prop up his head. Jack was too big to lie comfortably in this seat but comfortable wasn't something he was going to manage at the moment anyway. 'Jack, can you hear me?' He was going into shock. He felt for the pulse at the base of Jack's jaw, it was racing and erratic, no time to worry about blood pressure, it didn't matter anyway; there was nothing he could do until he got him back to the Hub. He unrolled a survival blanket from the medical kit. In his ear he could hear Gwen telling the police and ambos what had happened. In her version she and Tosh had decided to investigate on their own. The perp had surprised them and triggered his booby trap. Well that bit was certainly true enough.

Tucking the foil carefully around Jack he was surprised when Jack said, 'Tosh?'

'She's all right,' Owen assured him. 'The ambulance is there now. She's being looked after. Let's get you back to the Hub and look after you.'

'Hurts.' Jack told him.

'I know mate. We'll fix that as soon as we get you home.' He crashed the vehicle into gear, hit the switch for the flashing blue lights and took off. 'Ianto, you there mate?'

'Of course. What do you need?'

Thank Christ Ianto was holding himself together. His best 'butler' voice could hide a multitude of emotions but at least it meant he was coping enough to be useful. He started barking orders. 'Bring the gurney up to the carpark. I'm going to need an IV set up and ready to go, normal saline, oxygen bottle and mask. We'll need dressings, lots of them. How much narcotics have we got?'

'I think there are five ampules left of the 10 mg, that's all we've got.'

If Ianto thought there were five ampules then there were five ampules. 'That will do for now but we'll have to get more.'

'I imagine we'll have to get more of quite a few things. We'll do that later. Just tell me what you want waiting when you get here.'

'Just give that gurney a good scrub with disinfectant. It's had weevils on it.'

Jack hadn't reacted in time. Mentally exhausted he'd sensed the trap, saw Tosh running under it, the roof falling and hadn't reacted in time. Physically exhausted he'd thrown himself forward just a fraction too late, not reaching her at all, not saving her. And in every way he saw it, that was all his fault.

He clung to that thought.

Lying there feeling his flesh scorch he flashed. An aircraft hanger, The Master, torture and utter despair. Terrified he screamed and heard an answering cry. Tosh. Tosh in pain, burning, here and now. His fault, his fault. Here, in Wales. He scrabbled his fingers into the concrete floor, the floor of a warehouse in Kelburn in Cardiff where a nasty human had set a dreadful trap. Not a metal floor in an aircraft hanger or a fetid cell. Cried in agony as Owen, Owen here and now, human, not alien, wrenched the burning headset out of his ear, pulled him upright and threw him into the car.

Christ, stay here, he had to stay here. In the SUV, racing through Wales, with Owen not The Master. Hurt it hurt, but not torture, not deliberately being tortured. Tosh hurt. His fault, 'Tosh?' he asked Owen, oh please let her be all right. His fault. It was his fault.

So frightened, so scared, so easy to shift consciousness, to be in that other place. So frightened because if he went there he wouldn't come back.


	7. Chapter 7

Nightmares 7

Looking after our Captain. And why Owen can't just shoot him and put him out of his misery, for those that have been wondering.

For some reason this part has been really hard to write, not sure why. We are on the home straight now. I can see the end of this not too far away now.

Hang in there. All will end well, I promise

ps - I love the cool graphs showing how many people have been reading and am astounded at the range of countries you are all in. Review please.

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Owen pulled into the garage to find Ianto waiting for him with the sheet covered gurney and all the equipment Owen had asked for

Owen pulled into the garage to find Ianto waiting for him with the sheet covered gurney and all the equipment Owen had asked for. He jerked to a stop beside him surprised by the relief he felt at having made it home. Ianto already had the passenger door open peering in at his lover, his face white. 'Oh Jack.'

'Hold it together Teaboy,' Owen said, as much for his own benefit as Ianto's. 'I don't know how bad it is yet. Just let's get him downstairs.' As carefully as they could they manhandled their patient onto the gurney, both cringing against Jack's moans of pain. 'Lie him on his left,' Owen ordered, grunting at the effort of lifting him high enough. 'Keep him off the worst of the burns.' It was difficult; the gurney didn't seem to have been built to carry anyone as large as their boss. His feet hung off the end and his knees over the side. Ianto wrenched the old cot sides up, at least they worked. He wouldn't want him falling off.

Owen grabbed the IV equipment while Ianto gently worked an oxygen mask onto his lover's face. Owen heard him gasp and looked up to see him staring aghast at the mess of Jack's ear. 'What did this?' he asked.

It did look awful. The cavity of the ear was raw and weeping, the wound extending into the lobe and running down to his chin. 'Head set. I had to pull it out,' Owen needed to reassure himself of that. 'It was holding the heat in his ear.'

Ianto groaned and carefully arranged gauze padding under the elastic that held the mask in place. Jack gave a hitching breath but didn't move.

Ianto had already put together the IV giving set and fluid bag, all Owen needed to do was get a needle into a vein and hook it up. He ripped the leather strap off Jack's left wrist, wrapped a tourniquet around the arm, but when he tried to open the sterile needle his fingers wouldn't work. With a feeling of disbelief he looked at his hands to find they were swollen, red and blistered. Only then did he register the pain. He gasped and stood there staring at his burnt hands. The world greyed.

He registered Ianto's hand leading him to the car and sat down heavily on the damp car seat. He dropped his head between his legs and sat damaged hands palm upwards on his knees, breathing hard. When he could sit up again, Ianto had the IV needle in the back of Jack's wrist, the IV running. I didn't know you could do that, he nearly said, but then realised when and why Ianto would have learnt that skill. He held is tongue. 'Give him the morphine,' he said instead. 'A whole ampoule into the tubing,' and noted that Ianto's hand shook slightly as he drew the drug into the syringe. Was he remembering too?

As the drug entered his body Jack went limp, from being made of stone to made of marshmallow. He let out a breathy sigh then whispered. 'Oh thank god.'

Owen smiled and cautiously stood up. 'How you doing Jack?'

Jack grimaced. 'Better now.' Talking was a struggle. His lips were swollen, the right side of his face grotesque with blisters and torn skin. 'Not,' Owen could tell he was putting special emphasis on the word, '…wigging out,' he said with effort.

'That's good. I was worried.' He was actually immensely relieved. Jack was lucid, aware and orientated, but he was also in excruciating pain, the morphine had only taken the edge of it. 'Jack, are you with me? I need to ask you something important.' He knelt down bringing their heads to the same height. Jack gave the faintest nod. 'Jack, I couldn't do it before, not easily, but I could now. I could kill you.' He stroked his hand, taking care not to knock the IV. 'I could give you an overdose of morphine and put you to sleep. You wouldn't feel a thing. You'd just go to sleep and stop breathing. Then you'd revive and you'd be physically fine. Yeah?'

'No.' Jack gripped his hand and Owen tried not to wince. 'I can't go to sleep,' he said with effort.

Ianto was looking on puzzled and concerned. 'Why? What does he mean?'

Owen flapped a hand to shush him. 'That's what I'm afraid of. I think if you died now, you'd revive physically fine, but I just don't know how you'd be mentally. I'm scared you wouldn't be able to tell the difference, in that time when you're not really aware, between what is happening now, and what happened then.' This was so screwy. When had he ever considered killing someone for their own good? 'Do you understand?'

'You're not going to shoot me.'

'No,' Owen grimaced and climbed painfully to his feet. His knees hurt too. 'I'm not going to shoot you. It is far too messy.'

'I understand.'

Ianto's eyebrows had disappeared under his hairline. '**I** don't understand,' he said.

'Later,' Owen told him. Turning back to Jack he said, 'Please Jack. Just clarify for me. Do you want me to kill you?'

'No.'

'Good, 'cause I don't think I'd have it in me to do it in cold blood anyway. We'll get you downstairs and get you comfortable.'

'Tosh?' Jack was now hanging onto Ianto. He stared up at them, fear palpable in his gaze.

'She's at the hospital.' Ianto assured him. 'They'll look after her well but we don't know yet.'

Once in the morgue they cut off the tee shirt and shorts and set to work. Surrounded by his own clutter Owen felt much better. He wasn't however able to do much and had to direct Ianto in the art of wound cleansing and burn dressings.

Things weren't quite as bad as he'd thought they might be. Jack's face and right hand and forearm had taken the worst of it. He must have thrown his hand up and looked up as the oil fell. Removing his watch was a gruesome as Owen had feared. The right side of his chest and hip were blistered along with his left buttock and thigh where he must have been lying in the oil after he fell. His legs were red and probably terribly painful but not seriously damaged. He would be in agony until his nerve endings started to heal, but other than his face and wrist, none of it was too serious. Owen dared to hope that Tosh had gotten off even more lightly. 'Give him a dose of antibiotics,' he told Ianto, 'Have we got ampicillin? He'll need it four hourly. I've no idea how long it will take him to heal.'

'Jack,' Ianto asked quietly, bending down so he was in their patient's field of view. 'Jack love. Do you know how long it will take for you to get better?' Jack was staring blankly at the wall his eyes slow to focus as Ianto leant in. He started to shake his head but stopped with a gasp. Ianto rearranged the oxygen mask to ease it off the dressings. 'It's all right Jack, don't talk. Just rest now. I'll find you a bed, make you more comfortable.'

'No.' Jack grabbed at his arm.

'What love? What's the matter?'

'I can't sleep, can't go to sleep. Don't let me sleep.'

'Oh shit.' Owen muttered.

'What?' Ianto rounded on him. 'This thing about sleep again? What does he mean?'

'I'll get lost,' Jack whimpered, a tear tracking out from the dressing over his eye and running down the side of his nose.

Owen had been trying to dress his own hands but held them up to placate Ianto. Everything fell off. 'Shit.'

'I won't let you get lost Jack. I'll be right here.' Ianto shushed him. He reluctantly let go of Jack's hand and came over to Owen. 'Here.' He picked up the forceps and laid a new gauze over his palm, carefully wrapped his fingers and dispassionately bandaged the hand. 'What does he mean?' he asked again. Owen tried not to cringe as Ianto took the burn cream and squeezed the last of it out of the tube and onto his other hand, spreading it carefully before covering it with gauze and bandages.

'We might have a problem,' Owen admitted. Fuck his hands hurt. What was Jack feeling? Tosh? He had to get to her soon. He took a deep breath and decided that for now patient confidentiality had to go out the window. Ianto would be doing most of the nursing, he needed to know. 'He's been having dreadful nightmares,' he told him, 'but it's a little more complicated than that.' He filled Ianto in the best he could but he was starting to have trouble thinking. Shock, he realised. The adrenaline that had kept him going was wearing off and he was finally having his reaction. Ianto seemed to realise it too because next thing he was being wrapped in a blanket and led over to the sofa. To his surprise he was shaking. 'I need to work out what we need.' He protested. 'I've got to go to Tosh.'

'Take ten minutes,' Ianto told him gently. 'Then you can do it.'

That seemed like a good plan and Owen gratefully lay down.

He started awake to Ianto shaking him and the smell of coffee. 'It's been half an hour,' Ianto told him, 'but I figured you needed a little more.' He presented the coffee. It was in a large mug with a straw. Owen accepted it gratefully, holding it carefully with his bandaged hands. 'Gwen rang,' Ianto told him.

He sat up straight. 'Tosh…?'

'She's doing all right. She's on a ward. They've sedated her and she's sleeping.' Ianto looked sympathetic. 'Gwen said she'd stay there till you get there.'

'Oh good.'

'You know what you were saying before,' Ianto asked. 'About Jack's nightmares. Should he sleep or should he stay awake? It's just that he's exhausted, but he's trying so hard to stay awake.'

'He needs to sleep,' Owen decided forcing his muzzy brain to work. 'He's not going to heal otherwise. He's scared of the dreams and I don't blame him. I've seen what they do to him.' He thought carefully. He was woozy, he had that same feeling of exhaustion and patients needing him as he had often woken with back in his med student days. 'I'll make up a sedative. We'll take him deep and keep him there, at least until tomorrow morning. He won't dream.'

'What you said, what did you mean about him being tortured? When?' Ianto looked distressed. 'Who?'

'When he was away.'

'And he took retcon?'

'Yeah, and that's the problem.'

Ianto knew about retcon. 'If he gets too many flashbacks he could…'

'Scramble himself.'

'And you think these dreams have been flashbacks?'

'Yeah.' He sighed, he still felt dislocated, was still shocky. He shouldn't be making life and death decisions for anyone right now. 'The burning incident yesterday was definitely a flashback.'

'Shit.' Ianto went pale as he realised the implications. 'So someone boiled him in oil?'

'Yeah.' He took another sip of the coffee. It helped. 'Over and over again.' He watched Ianto to see if he'd hurl but he just stood there, inscrutable.

'I need to see that transcript.'

'It's in the bottom drawer of the instrument trolley.' He spat out the straw and held the cup between his two hands, tipping it up and draining it. 'Right now we need to get him to sleep and make sure he doesn't dream. And,' he stood up, 'I need to go to Tosh.'

Walking back into the morgue he gaped in astonishment. The autopsy table had been shoved against the wall and in the middle of the floor was an ancient cast iron hospital bed. It was made up with sheets and the pillows and duvet off Jack's bed and was turned down waiting for the patient.

'Where did you find that?'

'You'd be amazed what's in the vaults. The mattress isn't too good but it will have to do for now.'

What was amazing wasn't so much what was in the vaults but that Ianto knew about all of it and could find it when needed. 'You could have brought up the mattress off his own bed and used that.'

'How?' Ianto asked.

He thought a moment. 'Bloody good point,' he conceded. The only way in and out of that room was the hatch. How the hell had the stuff down there got there? The room must have been built around it.

'He couldn't stay on that trolley and I didn't think the autopsy table would make a very comfortable bed. Help me get him on it.'

'I admit,' Owen said, 'to not thinking that far ahead.'

They dragged Jack across on the sheet. Owen was next to useless but it was easier than Ianto doing it alone. Jack tried to stifle his cries but they knew they hurt him. At least it was the last time they had to move him, he could rest comfortably now. Ianto raised the head of the bed and settled him with pillows propping his weight off the sore points. Owen sorted out the drugs he needed, awkwardly wrote out the calculations carefully then asked Ianto to join him. 'We'll give you more morphine now Jack, then you can rest. Can you draw this up for me?' he asked Ianto. He dropped his voice. 'Don't tell him, he'll panic.'

Ianto didn't look pleased but seemed to see his point and carefully drew up the drugs. 'Put it in the IV bag,' Owen instructed him. 'We'll put this one on a separate system. Keep it going at thirty drops per second. That will keep a steady dose. The other bag will be just for fluids and that can run faster.' Ianto efficiently did everything he was told, hooking the new bag into the original line with a connector. He stooped and crouched in front of Jack. 'There sweetheart, that will keep you more comfortable.' He took Jack's hand and sat down on the edge of the bed. 'I'll keep you safe love. You can go to sleep if you need to. Don't fight it, you're safe.' He ran a gentle finger across the back of his hand, feeling Jack's grip slacken as the drugs carried him into sleep.

'What's his pulse rate?' Owen whispered.

Ianto slid his hand around, found Jack's pulse in his wrist, felt it slowing as the drugs worked. He counted, checked with his watch. 'About 62,' he said.

'Good, that's good. Much better.' Owen drew a tired breath. Nearly finished. He could go soon. 'I need to give you instructions. Can you write it down?' He gave a comprehensive list of meds, fluids, oxygen flow rate, vital recordings and position changes. Then he listed the specialist burn creams and dressings he wanted requisitioned, asked for more IV equipment and fluids. Ianto got it all down. Remembering something vital Owen very carefully wrote out the prescription necessary to get more morphine. Jesus, his hands hurt. It must have showed.

'Do you want some of that yourself?' Ianto asked.

It was sorely tempting. 'Yes,' he finally said, 'just a half.' As Ianto drew it up he remembered something else. 'You'll have to watch him really carefully,' he told him. 'He'll be deeply unconscious. You'll need to protect his airway. He might choke.'

'I know what to do.' Ianto was holding up the syringe. 'Where do you want this?' Owen watched him struggle not to smirk.

'If you think I am baring my arse for you….'

'Bend over and drop them.'

The awful thing was he couldn't. He couldn't undo his jeans and Ianto had to do it for him, before efficiently injecting the morphine into the correct spot, upper outer quadrant. Then arms around him he tucked him in and did up his zipper. Owen's face was fire engine red. 'We will never speak of this again.'

'Very good sir.'

Owen waited for him to crack but he didn't.

'Shall I call you a cab sir? You can't drive.'

Owen let his breath out with a woosh, already feeling better as the pain subsided. 'Yes,' he said gratefully. 'Please. Thank you.'

For a long time after Owen left Ianto just sat there, watching Jack sleep. Eventually he got up, took vital recordings, checked the IV and tidied up the mess they had made. He went up to the kitchen looking for something to eat, but the only thing that looked even remotely safe was Tosh's yoghurt. Surmising that she wouldn't be wanting it anytime soon he found a teaspoon and ate it slowly. He then did a grand clear out of the fridge. Jack wasn't the only one who cleaned when he was upset. He smiled weakly. They were made for each other.

Feeling a little cheered he made himself a cup of tea and went back to Jack. Myfwany was stirring and he realised it must be close to her tea time. He'd see to that in a while. The dressing over Jack's ear was oozing so he reinforced it before checking the others. The rest were all right. Owen had told him to do position changes so pulling out the pillows and gently sliding his arms under Jack's buttocks he lifted his hips over until he was lying on his back. He wasn't going to turn him to the right, but that should help. He replaced the fluid bag and checked the drip rate on the bag with drugs in it. Steady on thirty a minute. He drank his tea.

The pterodactyl was dive bombing the kitchen window, looking for someone to feed her. He didn't want her coming this way and disturbing things so he went back to the fridge they kept her food in and threw a great lump of semi thawed dead rabbits at her. She caught them with a quark and disappeared up to her lair, the wind of her flight ruffling his hair. He shuddered, she was a marvellous creature and he'd once been so thrilled with her very existence here, but that was before Jack had used her as a weapon against Lisa. These days he was very ambivalent in his feelings.

With nothing else to do he finally opened the bottom drawer of the instrument trolley and took out the bundle of paper he found there. Going back to the chair by the bed he opened it.

Owen had started writing it in medicalese.

"This is a summary of material given me (Doctor Owen Harper) by Captain Jack Harkness, senior Torchwood 3 operative.

Harkness has been exhibiting uncharacteristic depressive tendencies and possible symptoms of PTSD since returning, with no explanation, after being missing for three months. I had been concerned as to his state of mind and possible suicidal tendencies. When Harkness handed me the disk that this material is compiled from he was quite irrational. He instructed me to hide it from him and on no condition to ever let him see it again. I was not supposed to look at it. Concerned that it may be a suicide note, I opened the disc and read the only document that was on it.

On the document Harkness details events over a year of his life which he believes happened within the three months he was missing. His description of on going torture during his missing year is graphic, horrific and often incoherent.

Harkness' reason for documenting the story of how he came to spend a year that the rest of the world knows nothing about and to record the abuse he received is to record it for future reference should there be some reason he needs the information in the future. The document records his intention to take retcon and forget the atrocities. He reasons that if he does not take this step he will go mad.

It appears from Harkness' behaviour in the days following passing me the disc that he has done what he intended and taken retcon. He appears to have completely and spontaneously recovered from all PTSD symptoms he has previously been exhibiting. In light of what the disc reveals I believe he acted correctly. I will now endeavour to ensure that he does suffer any ill effects from his self medication."

Owen gave a brief synopsis of what had happened, Jack taking off after the Doctor, Prime Minister Saxon turning out to be an evil Time Lord and a year of the earth being subjugated and razed to the ground before someone called Martha Jones had saved the day, Saxon, aka The Master had ended up dead and Jack had manipulated the time vortex to return things to how they were a year previously.

Ianto suddenly started up. He hadn't ordered the medical supplies. Going to the computer terminal he routed requests through several cyclic routes within the NHS such that a truck load of equipment would appear in their parking garage at 9 am the next morning. If it ever became necessary, there was a paper trail, Ianto was very particular about that, but it wouldn't be easy to find or track by outsiders. That done he checked the IVs, took Jack's vitals, shifted him back onto his right side, and ran out of things to do. He was already feeling disturbed by what he had read, he couldn't believe that Jack hadn't told him about something like that happening to him. He wasn't at all happy to discover that his feeling that something had been wrong had been correct. And his was quite deeply disturbed by the implication that a year of his own life had been reversed and disappeared too. It was all very creepy. He wasn't sure he wanted to know exactly what had been done to anyone, and particularly not to Jack by evil alien Time Lords, but Jack needed him to care for him and so he needed to know.

With a feeling of trepidation he sat down and continued to read. He read and he cried. It was a total litany of sadistic cruelty. Hanging, crucifixion, on going drowning, boiling in oil, being hung upside down and sawn in half from his genitals to his chest until the saw finally reached a vital organ…' He threw up into the sluice. Owen had written completely dispassionately. Ianto was highly pleased he didn't have to read Jack's not surprisingly incoherent original. He forced himself to read to the end.

Owen had concluded with something that equalled all the other horrors combined. "Harkness at one stage of his narrative makes the following statement. 'I have been a torturer.' No Jack, No. 'I know torture. I like to think that the dreadful things I did were justified, to elicit information from enemy suspects for the greater good. I have to think that. I was, I know, very good at it. Sometimes I even enjoyed it. What happened to me wasn't for any purpose at all, except, I think, maybe it was payback. Maybe I deserved it.' I find this statement," Owen continued, "hard to marry with my perception of Captain Jack Harkness. In my years of acquaintance with him he has proved himself to be compassionate, and always mindful of the welfare of all creatures, humans, and aliens he has been involved with. He has been a force of great good in the universe. I hope that now he has exorcised these memories that he can continue to be so."

Way to go Owen. Ianto held on to Jack's hand, - not a torturer's hand, it just wasn't - rested his head on the bed and wept.

It was a long night.

Around 5.30 in the morning he heard the cog door open and footsteps come across towards him. Owen, he thought without looking up, then realised the steps were lighter. Gwen.

He kept his head on the bed, exhausted, too shattered to want to show his face, to try and pretend he was all right when he was anything but.

He heard her stop at the foot of the bed. 'Oh my,' she breathed. 'A fallen angel.'

Ianto smiled at that. He had to admit, that even with half his face covered in dressings, a sleeping Jack was extraordinarily beautiful.

She moved quietly over, thinking him sleeping and dropped a gentle kiss on the top of his head. Her hands rested briefly on his shoulders then moved away. She was back a moment later and a blanket was draped across his shoulders. Feeling surprisingly comforted, Ianto found he could now drift into sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Nightmares of Immortality 8

Sorry it has taken me so long to get this new bit up. Most of you seem to have noticed that I took a side trip to the Countrycide and wrote Coming Home, but that isn't the only reason, this had just been really hard to write in a way that feels believable. I'm still not really happy with it, but figure it will do or we'll never get to the end.

Do you need a recap? Jack's been having nightmares that are more than nightmares. They appear to be flash backs to events he ret-conned from his mind. Owen knows what they are because Jack gave him a disc with the information of what happened on it. Owen is now worried that if Jack remembers too much to soon he may go mad, ironic since Jack took the retcon in the first place to stop him going mad from the memories.

Meanwhile Jack and Tosh have both been seriously burnt in an ambush while chasing a suspect. Tosh is in hospital and Ianto and Gwen are in the Hub caring for Jack. Ianto has just read a transcript of what happened to Jack on the Valiant.

Edited for spelling - corrected the word enantiomer (such molecules really do exist)

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His sleep didn't last long. He'd set alarms in case he did dose off and at 6.30 one trilled, time for the next round of medication and recordings. He started up, realised where he was and instantly looked up at Jack. He was of course deeply unconscious, breathing evenly and quietly. Good.

Turning he saw Gwen at the desk behind him, watching him intently, a piece of paper in her hand. Tears were running down her cheeks. The transcript, god damn, he'd left it on the bed.

'Did you know?' she asked.

Numbly he shook his head. Found his voice, 'You shouldn't have read that. Jack wouldn't want you to know that.'

'Obviously he didn't want any of us to know.'

'He didn't want himself to know.'

He prepared a new IV bag and hooked it up. It occurred to him that all that fluid had to be going somewhere and carefully reached into the bed, checking for moisture. All okay so far. Possibly most of the fluid was being lost from the burns, he'd heard that happened and the dressings on his arm needed reinforcing, they were getting quite mucky. The skin after all was designed to hold fluid in and when it was damaged like this, it just couldn't do its job. Jack had probably been dehydrated before this started though, he had been running. Even so, Ianto decided to track down a urinal bottle fairly soon, there'd be one in the stores somewhere. Where he touched his leg Jack's skin felt greasy, he was still covered in oil.

Gwen quietly watched him. She was wearing her compassionate face, the one that always annoyed the hell out of him especially when it was turned on him. She had a bandage on her right hand too, but it didn't seem to be worrying her too much.

'What are you doing here?' he asked.

'I couldn't sleep. I decided… it seemed to be better to be here, in case you needed me.'

'Right.' Blood pressure and pulse were fine but Jack's temperature was up slightly. He hoped he didn't have an infection. He noted it on the chart for Owen to see later. He made a conscious effort to pull himself together. Bloody Gwen, always poking at things she shouldn't touch. It wasn't however Gwen's fault that he hadn't put the transcript away was it?

'You could help. There are some things I need from the vaults, if I tell you where to go, can you get them?' That should get rid of her for at least half an hour and give him time to sort himself out.

She arrived back dusty and annoyed, pushing the old hospital screen he'd sent her for. It was two hinged metal frames holding a tatty curtain each and folded back on each other. It had once had small castors on each end but now only had one. Gwen had managed to manhandle the thing all the way into the Hub where the grilled walkway caused the remaining wheel to seize up. Ianto hurried to help her. Gwen was coughing. 'You might want to dust that thing before your use it.' He gave it a poke and agreed with her. There was probably sixty years of dust on it. It certainly wouldn't do near someone with open wounds. 'I'll get the vacumn cleaner,' although really he aught to give the curtains a wash.

Gwen was looking at him oddly. 'Ianto.' She grabbed the curtains and yanked. They were so old and fragile they gave no resistance. 'There,' she said with satisfaction. 'Now, hang a couple of sheets on the frames.' She had that compassionate look again. 'You need to go and get some sleep.'

'I'm fine.' Together they carried the screen up to the mortuary come makeshift sickbay and Gwen set about replacing the old curtains with sheets using a great deal of sticky tape to hold them on the frame. Well he could always requisition some more couldn't he? When she'd finished they arranged them to provide some privacy around the bed. It made the area feel more intimate somehow.

Then he got her to help with a bed bath. If Jack had known about it he might have been prissy about the two of them getting that up close and personal, but he didn't know, and it made Ianto feel better to know his lover was clean. Working together they washed and dried all the skin they could get to. He was grimy with grease and dirt from the floor and while they couldn't get it all, rolling him onto his side and back they managed to get most of it. His body was warm and disturbingly limp. They finished off by changing the sheet which had become fairly damp during their ministrations. Ianto smiled. 'We should have taken up nursing.'

'I nearly did,' Gwen told him. 'But I thought police work would be more exciting.'

'Never guessed you'd end up doing this anyway?'

'No,' she emptied the wash bowl down the sluice, looked around the Hub, 'can't say I ever imagined anything like this.'

Owen rang just before eight. 'How's Jack?' were his first words. 'Look, I'm just leaving the hospital now,' he told them. 'I'm going to go home and have a shower, then I'll come to you.'

'How's Tosh?' Gwen asked.

Owen took a moment to answer. 'She'll be okay,' he finally said. 'She might need some skin grafts.'

'Oh no!'

'It's not too bad, they said. It could have been worse. She's sedated and comfortable, and she's stable, that's the main thing.'

'Good,' Gwen said. 'Be careful Owen. We'll see you soon.' Her compassionate hormones, Ianto thought cynically were going into overdrive.

Owen's voice boomed through the speakers. 'Ianto, you there mate?'

'Yes.'

'Turn off the medicated IV. We need him to wake up, see how he is. I'm thinking it should take a couple of hours once the drug's turned off. Oh, and Ianto,' Owen sounded excited, 'I think I know a way we can fix that problem we were talking about, I realised something last night.'

Gwen of course had to ask, 'What problem?'

'Just something Ianto and I were talking about.'

'Owen,' Ianto cut in, 'she knows. I fell asleep and left the transcript out. She's read it.'

'Shit.'

'Shit, yourself, Owen bloody Harper. How could you know something like that and not tell any of us?'

Owen hung up the phone.

Ianto had to hand it to him, he knew how to handle a pissy Gwen.

Owen arrived an hour later with a bag of bacon and egg McMuffins. He was completely wired. Ianto narrowed his eyes as he looked at him. He'd taken some sort of stimulant and it was a lot stronger than coffee. Coming to the area that Ianto now thought of as the sickbay he stood looking at the scene. 'Christ,' he muttered. 'With that set up, the bed, the screen, even the bandages, he looks more like a World War two airman than he ever has.' The description was every bit as adapt as Gwen's fallen angel.

They weren't used to seeing Jack asleep.

No one was in the mood for the food and Ianto went up to make coffee while Owen, moving carefully because of his bandaged hands checked his patient over. Ianto wasn't sure he should be making coffee for Owen but he didn't like the idea of finding out what would happen if he didn't.

The coffee was gratefully received.

'I need to check something,' Owen said excitedly, hauling equipment out of a cupboard. 'I've been trying to get an ID on the Tyralian frog venom,' he poured some carefully into a flask and set it over a Bunsen burner. 'I got a reading, but I want to do it again in case.'

'In case of what?' Gwen asked.

'In case the machine got it wrong.'

'Owen, we are all tired and no one is in the mood. What is it and why is it important?' Straight and to the point. Good ol Gwen.

'It's an enantiomer of bi-retonolic condialysdiomer.'

'Come again?'

'Retcon,' Owen and Ianto said together.

'You've found an enantiomer of retcon?' Ianto asked.

'What?' Gwen looked like she was getting pissed. 'What the fuck are you talking about?'

'An enantiomer . It's like a mirror image of a molecule.' Owen placed the molecular probe in the top of the flask. He winced as he caught his finger on the wiring. 'I got this to work yesterday morning. It's taken me weeks to get it so the computer can read it. Then when it did, I knew the molecule was familiar but I couldn't work out why.'

He started to turn the Bunsen up but Gwen pushed his arm away. 'Here, I'll do it. Your bandages'll catch fire. I still don't understand.'

'You know a molecule is like a great chain, right? Twisted back on itself. Here, I'll show you.' He pulled something up on the computer screen.

Ianto's attention was grabbed by a small movement from Jack. His hand fluttered against the covers and was still. 'He's waking up.'

'Good,' Owen said. 'I thought he would soon.' He turned back to the screen. 'So this double bond here is the secret. Both chemicals have exactly the same chemical formula but they're built like mirror images around that double bond. See?'

'No.'

The smell of the stuff wafted through the whole Hub. 'Christ it stinks,' Ianto put in. 'Do you have to do that in here?'

'Nearly there, the computer will get a reading in a minute.'

'Turn it off. It's horrible. Do you want Jack to wake up smelling that?'

'Look I said, it'll only be a minute.'

Jack moved his head, murmured something. Ianto shushed him.

'Owen, turn it off. That smell lingers. The place has been stinking of that for days. It's disgusting.'

'Keep your trousers on Teaboy.'

'It is horrible Owen,' Gwen agreed. 'Why do you have to do that when you already know what it is?'

'I'm not sure. That's the trouble. It's such a weird thing.'

'Why don't you do it at home?' Ianto felt his temper rising.

'Why don't you get me a proper fucking fume cupboard? You can requisition anything. Anything at all Captain bloody Jack wants, right down to sodding cuff links, "yes Gwen dear,' he did a bad imitation of his Welsh accent, 'I'll get you a new pencil sharpener." But anything useful, anything that I ask for, well no, of course not. It just doesn't happen.'

'That just isn't true.'

'I need a fume cupboard. Have I got one?'

'You never said.'

'Fuck you Ianto!'

He couldn't help himself, sick to death of fetching and carrying for everybody all the time with no thanks from them ever he stormed over. He loomed over Owen, pulled on his best smarmy voice. 'Fuck me? If you must sir. Would you prefer me over the desk or shall we go somewhere private?'

'You fuck!' Owen took a swing. Shame about his sore hands. He howled and Ianto pressed his advantage, sending a right to his belly. Owen doubled up grunting. Gwen was shrieking. Owen peered up, pure murder in his face, suddenly straightened leading with his head, caught him under the chin. They both went down. Sprawling across the floor panting and brawling. Owen was playing dirty with his elbows, Ianto desperately trying to get his knee into the other man's balls. 'Stop it!' Gwen was yelling. 'Stop it.' She grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked, stood on Owen's arm before he could swing. 'Stop it.' Finally they heard her. 'You're disturbing Jack.'

That got through.

Ianto shot off the floor, back to the bedside. 'Ow. Fuck.' Owen had got him a good one on his cheek bone. It really hurt. Jack was moaning, moving restlessly. 'Hush,' Ianto told him. 'It's all right now.' He glared at Owen, 'Look what you've done.'

'What I've done? You started it!' Owen pulled out his stethoscope, tried to put it against Jack's chest.

'Get away from him! Look this is hurting him. Why the hell can't you just kill him and let him get better?' Ianto looked at his lover thrashing. It would be so much kinder… He put his hands to Jack's throat, felt for the pressure points.

'Don't you fucking dare!' Owen threw himself at him, knocking him onto the bed. 'He'll wake up insane you stupid prat.'

'Geroff!' He flung Owen off and knelt above Jack, determined to do the right thing. 'He won't. He'll be better.' Jack writhed under his hands as he started to squeeze. 'All his other organs regenerate as good as new, why not his mind?' Jack's hands came up to his but they had no strength. Owen grabbed his hair and yanked - why did people keep doing that - got him in a head lock and dragged him off the bed. He swung for his face but missed as Owen suddenly swung around, something else catching his attention.

'Oi. Gwen.' He flung Ianto off and went barrelling across the room. 'No! What the fuck are you doing?'

Gwen had picked up the flask with a pair of tongs, yanked out the probe, stuffed a bandage in the top of it and was putting it in the freezer. 'What are you doing?' Owen tried to stop her but couldn't grab her without spilling the toxin. 'You'll ruin it.'

'I'm trying to stop the fumes. You didn't get violent until this stuff got hot.'

'What?' He gaped at her.

'This stuff, it's making you violent.'

Ianto lay on the floor thinking. She was right. This fight was bizarre. He still wanted to smash Owen's face in but he wasn't sure why they'd started fighting.

Owen was still having trouble. He really didn't want Gwen to put the stuff in the freezer.

'Owen, back off or I'll shoot you.' She gaped at them. 'See. See. It's doing it to me too.'

Owen gasped, planted his feet firmly and held his arms ram rod stiff at his side. His face was twisted with effort. 'That made us fight?'

'Yes. What do you want it for Owen? What does it do? How is **this** going to help anything?'

'I think it will undo retcon.' Ianto could see Owen forcing himself to stay standing still. 'I think I can control it. I want to use it,' On the bed Jack suddenly let out a cry and twisted sideways, 'to help Jack.' Ianto shot up, tried to grab him to protect his wounds, although he could see that he'd already done major damage in his earlier attempts to strangle the patient.

'Like it's helping now you mean?'

'Shit!' Owen's face was one of horror. 'God you're right. He's having another flashback.' Jack was making gasping noises, twisting and tossing. 'Don't restrain him. It's too like what happened. Try and wake him up.'

They were all around the bed now. 'It's like he's choking' Gwen said.

'I fucking wonder why.'

'Maybe he thinks he's drowning?'

'Or being hung.'

'Or being strangled. Did you ever think of that? Jesus, don't let him fall off the bed.'

'Fuck that evil alien bastard.'

'Fuck you Ianto. You did this.'

'It was your potion.'

'Stop it. Jack, wake up sweetheart. Wake up.'

'Jack!'

'Jack!'

'He's going to wake up vomiting,' Owen said. 'I just know it. Be ready.' He flung towels at the bed which Gwen tried to spread at strategic places. It was extremely difficult the way Jack was throwing himself around. He grabbed a metal bowl out of a cupboard.

Jack sounded like he was drowning. 'He can't breathe,' Ianto was panicking. What had he done? What nightmare had he thrown Jack into? He was making ghastly gurgling sounds like strangled coughs, his arms thrashing at the air. Ianto tried to hold on to him, to wake him but he was some place far away. What if he wouldn't wake up? What if it was as bad as Owen feared and he was locked in his nightmares for ever? He could tell Owen was having similar thoughts. They met each other's eyes, frightened.

'Jack. Jack come on. Wake up.'

In the end Jack woke himself up. He thrashed upright then flung himself backwards to collide with the metal bedhead. He cried out and his eyes flew open. 'NO!' He screamed in terror. 'No. Nononono.' He took a shuddering breath, 'Noooo,' then he proved Owen right.

Jack's stomach was empty. He hadn't eaten anything that had stayed down in a long long time. That didn't stop him heaving as if he were going to turn inside out. Someone held a bowl under his chin. It did eventually pass, with the help of an injection of something from Owen and he lay back on the dishevelled bed in relief. He was exhausted and he hurt. Tears flowed unchecked, too hard to stop them. The burns hurt, especially the ones on his ear and arm. And this neck hurt. Tentatively he reached up to check and found real bruises there. He'd dreamed hard enough to get bruises?

Ianto's hand took his and held it. 'It's all right Jack. You're all right. I'm sorry I hurt you?'

What? That didn't make sense, didn't compute. His brain couldn't comprehend and his body was too tired and sore to ask. The lingering horror of the dream was still with him adding a sinister pal to everything and he was too frightened to ask. Hadn't died. Hadn't gone mad, much. Dislocated and floating somewhere in not quite the same dimension as everyone else though. Had to be drugged. Not mad. He tried to make sense of what was happening, the looks his team were giving each other, the way they were looking at him. Something odd. Tried to get air into his lungs to speak, but then didn't know what to say.

Ianto and Gwen started straightening the bed, removed the filthy pillow and replaced it with a cool clean fresh one. Gwen washed his face, offered him water, but he couldn't remember how to drink it. His mouth was dry but he didn't know what to do. She poured a teaspoon full between his lips and it flooded his mouth, rinsed the bile from his tongue. Convulsively he swallowed and it felt good. She gave him some more.

Owen jabbed a needle in his thigh, mouth moving as he explained what he was doing. Couldn't understand. Felt the pain slowly subside. Ianto and Owen removed and replaced dressings, sore, but not excruciating. Ianto put a new IV in his arm. He must have lost the old one. Owen had bandages on his hands.

Ianto climbed onto the bed and pulled him into his arms. He leant into him with a feeling of relief. 'Are you with us Jack?' Ianto asked. He rubbed large circles on his back. 'I'm scared you've gone away.' Jack wrapped his good hand in Ianto's shirt and held on tight, pressed his body harder against him. The fear was easing. He took that breath again. 'Here,' he managed to say.


	9. Chapter 9

Nightmares of Immortality 9

Some Owen whumping coming up. Not quite sure where that came from, I didn't intentionally put it there, it just happened. (honest officer) It works well with the way the story is going though.

Oh, and don't worry, Jack is still having a hard time

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Ianto lay on the bed snuggled against Jack. Behind him he could hear the others tidying up. Owen was cursing softly under his breath. He felt his body start to relax; he hadn't had much sleep, when a buzzer sounded. 'Crap,' He said softly.

'That's the garage door bell.' Gwen said. 'Who's ringing that?'

'It's the delivery of medical equipment. I'd forgotten about them. They're late.'

'I'll get it,' she said cheerfully.

He turned, looking over his shoulder to see her. 'Take the gurney, you won't be able to carry it all.'

'Okay.'

'Oh. They think this is the delivery entrance for the Naval Base Infirmary by the way.'

'But the Naval Base is miles away.'

'Bound to be a maze of secret tunnels all over the place,' Owen said. 'Makes sense. Just heaven help us if they ever do have to make a delivery to the real one.'

'Unlikely,' Ianto reassured him. 'Gwen, while you're up there, see if you can do something to over ride the airlock system. Try and wedge the interior door open and get some air through here. We need to try and flush this stuff out. The scrubbers aren't up to it, I've been smelling it for weeks.'

'I'll see what I can do.'

He lay back. Jack stirred against him. He was dozing and seemed settled and comfortable. He kissed his hair.

'Ianto.' Owen said behind him. His voice sounded odd. 'Sorry mate. I don't want to disturb you, but can you give me a shot.'

Alarmed he rolled over. Owen was carefully cradling an ampoule of morphine. His face was white. 'Owen! Are you all right?'

'No.' He sat down awkwardly, nearly missing the chair. The ampoule rolled across the floor. 'No I'm not.'

'Shit.' He disentangled himself from Jack and hurried over. 'Did I hurt you?'

'Well you didn't help.' The bandage on his right hand was coming off and he looked at it with distaste. 'My hands are really sore.' That seemed to be a blatant understatement. Ianto remembered too that Owen wouldn't have had any sleep last night either. And he was injured.

'Do you need me to re do the dressings?'

Owen grimaced. 'Yes. But not till the morphine's taken effect. Can you just give it? Please.'

'Okay.' He found the ampoule, grabbed a syringe, drew it up.

'Are you good enough to put it in a vein?'

Ianto looked at him alarmed. 'I can, but are you sure you want me to?'

'It'll work much quicker that way.'

'Yes, but…' Owen was asking him to help him mainline morphine. It didn't seem like a good idea. It didn't seem safe, not without a drip in.

'I'm the doctor. I'm ordering an IV dose for this patient. Okay?'

'Okay.' Still unhappy he took the tourniquet, wrapped it around the proffered arm and slapped the back of his wrist to raise a vein. Owen nodded, his teeth clenched. He slid the needle into Owen's vein and slowly pushed the plunger. Owen went limp. His head dropped back and his eyes rolled up. 'Ohhh.' He gasped and followed it up with a deep breath. Dropped his head forward again and opened his eyes. 'Thank you.' He grinned at Ianto. 'I hate to tell you this, but I didn't actually get a rush. I just became pain free and it…. was… wonderful.' His colour improved markedly. 'God I needed that. Do you think you can do those dressings? I want to get back to the hospital.'

Guiltily Ianto realised it was the first time all morning that he'd remembered poor Tosh.

He went and washed his hands, embarrassed he hadn't thought to do it before he gave Owen the injection. 'What was wrong with my idea of killing Jack? I mean why shouldn't his mind come back healed with everything else?' He lay out a dressing tray and carefully unwrapped the bandages. Owen gritted his teeth. He couldn't suppress a moan. His left palm and fingers were a raw pulpy mess. It was possibly worse than any of Jack's injuries. 'I think I must have put that hand down in the oil when I first went to Tosh. I would have been touching her with the other hand.' He'd gone quite pale again. Ianto poured saline over the wounds to clean them, blotted them dry with gauze. Owen was holding himself rigid, trying not to move, staring at the ceiling. 'The brain is an organ,' he said suddenly, his voice too loud. 'The mind is not.' He flinched as Ianto spread a thick white cream over the mess of his hand with a spatula. 'Silver sulfadiazine. This stuff. I always used to love the sound of that. Not so keen on it now. Ow. Ow. Fuck!' He tossed his head back, eyes shut tight and tears appearing on his lashes. 'So,' he gasped, 'the mind is the brain and something indefinable, the soul if you like. Jack said he was going mad on that ship, and he was being killed all the time.' Ianto placed Vaseline gauze over the cream and layers of cotton gauze over that. 'So we can't take the chance that he'll come through a regeneration with his mind intact, not when he's getting break through flashbacks.' He gave a deep breath. 'Have you finished?'

Ianto used tape to secure the bandage. 'I've done that one. Shall I do your other hand or do you need a rest?'

'Do it. This one isn't quite so bad.'

It wasn't. Quite.

Red and raw there had been blisters but fighting had burst them. The dressings were wet. Gwen came back with the gurney loaded up with boxes. 'Just as well,' Owen said. 'We're going to run out of cream.' Ianto saw Gwen's face when she saw the hand. She got that compassionate look again. Fortunately, he thought, she kept her mouth shut. Owen wasn't needing sympathy. She placed herself behind Owen's chair, hands on his shoulders pulling him against her chest, her eyes watching Ianto work were huge.

'So what did you think the frog goo could do?' he asked to keep Owen distracted.

'Well it obviously reverses retcon,' Owen answered gratefully. 'I didn't realise at first, I've only just noticed, but Jack's flashbacks have occurred every time I've heated it up.'

Gwen held Owen tight as he gasped. 'But how is that going to help?' she asked. 'I thought we want to keep him from remembering.'

'That's the problem. That seems like a good idea. **I** thought it was a good idea when I first found out about it, when he gave me the disc.' Over their heads Ianto saw that Jack was awake, his head turned on the pillow watching them.

'But the trouble is Jack,' Owen continued. 'The sorts of scrapes he gets himself into, the many ways he manages to get himself killed! There are just too many chances that he'll spark a memory and bring the whole fucking lot back. And then…'

'I'm toast.' Jack said behind them.

'You're awake.'

'You drugged me.'

Owen tried to turn and see over his shoulder. 'Yeah, I'm sorry about that.' Gwen held him still. 'You weren't supposed to dream.' Ianto was wrapping the gauze around his fingers. 'You needed to sleep, we had to help you. Can we have this conversation in a minute? I'm kinda busy right now.' Ianto carefully bandaged the hand, finished it off with tape. Owen stood up and promptly sat down again. 'Ohhh.'

'Take it easy,' Gwen said catching him. 'You ought to rest. You need to heal too.'

'I'll be all right. My blood pressure just doesn't handle pain very well. Give me a minute.' Ianto caught Gwen's eye and they shared a moment of perfect understanding.

'Here,' together they dragged the chair over by the bed. 'Talk to Jack.' Ianto said. 'I'll go do a pot of tea.'

'I'm so sorry you got hurt. You and Tosh,' Jack said. 'I stuffed up. I'm sorry.'

'It wasn't your fault.'

'How do you figure that?'

Ianto didn't hear the answer. He took himself to the galley, quite happy to hide for a few minutes. He felt quite shaky. He wasn't cut out for medical work. He'd been quite pleased how well he'd managed to hold himself together. Tea and toast, that was what he did, not painful medical procedures. Queen Victoria's teapot he thought fondly. Yeah, right.

When he came back with the tray, the bed head was raised and Jack gasped when he saw him. 'Ianto, what happened to you?' He touched his face self consciously, he'd forgotten about the bruise on his cheek. 'Ahh..'

'You were fighting. I thought I was dreaming but you really were?'

'Yes.'

Owen filled Jack in on the effects of frog goo. Ianto passed out mugs of tea, plenty of sugar.

'No wonder those Tyralians are so aggressive. Do I get one?' Jack asked.

'Can you drink it?' Gwen asked him, 'with your mouth like that?' The answer turned out to be no, his lip was far too sore, but Gwen poured careful spoonfuls into him and his face took on a look of sheer bliss. Owen gave a desultory chew on some toast and drank his tea with pleasure. The mug sat on the trolley they were using as a bedside table and he sucked it through a bendy straw that Ianto had found in the cupboard.

'So what are you thinking about the retcon?' Ianto asked. Jack needed to be part of these decisions and he wanted it discussed while they were all together.

'I think,' Owen looked up at Jack, 'that we need to bring your memories back. Safely.' Jack's face was impassive. Ianto knew that face. So apparently did Owen. Gently he explained. 'You are just too likely to trigger memories by yourself and that could be disastrous. But,' he took Jack's hand, yawned. 'Sorry. I want to make sure you get help in dealing with your memories. It is not my intention to bring it all back to swamp you again. I want to talk to this Martha Jones, read up on Post Traumatic Stress, maybe even find a suitable professional to work with you. And I'll need to work out how to make this stuff work safely too.' Letting go of Jack he pressed the back of his hand against his eyes, yawned again. 'Sorry, things are catching up on me. What was this dream about?'

Jack closed his eyes. He looked very reluctant to talk.

Ianto shifted around Owen and sat back on the bed. 'We all know about it Jack. We've all read the transcript. I'm sorry for that. I know you didn't want us to know but we needed to know so we could help you.'

'You know more than I do then,' Jack said bitterly.

'I wish I could ask you why you didn't tell us and let us help you at the time, but I know you don't know.'

'I'm sure I had a good reason.'

'I'm sure you thought you did,' Owen said. He was resting his head on the bed. 'What was your dream? I just want to know if it's a flash back.'

'It started the same,' Jack said softly, 'in the cell, in chains.' Ianto pulled him close. 'I was hurt, beaten, maybe it was different a little, but essentially the same. The goons came, but not The Master this time. They beat me up some more then they took me out and I was hanged.' He was trembling. 'They must have pulled me back up and when I woke up I dropped again.' His grip on Ianto's hand was tight enough to break bones, his body rigid. 'I know it was going to happen over and over again.'

'You woke up when you hit the headboard,' Gwen said. 'Could you have woken up yourself do you think?'

Jack gave a small nod. 'I think I was waking up. My ear hurt, it didn't feel right.'

'Well there's a strange blessing,' Owen said. 'God I'm tired. I need to get back to the hospital. I'm going to go before I fall asleep.' He made to stand but Gwen pushed him back down.

'Why don't you have a rest before you go,' she suggested. She sounded quite casual Ianto thought but Owen obviously knew her too well.

He looked up at them, a look of dawning horror on his face. 'Oh you bastards. Did you do it Teaboy? I am going to fucking kill you.'

'You're not the only one can run fast and loose with sedatives,' Ianto said smugly. 'Using the same argument you used for Jack, you're not going to heal if you don't get some sleep.'

'It's all right,' Gwen said her hand on his arm. 'I'll go and sit with Tosh. You come when you've had a sleep.'

He tried to get to his feet again, staggered. 'How much did you give me?' Gwen slung his arm over her shoulder. 'Sofa or Jack's bed?'

'Three milligrams,' Ianto told him.

'Fucking son of a bitch. I'll be out till tea time.'

'Sleep tight.' Ianto blew him a kiss. At his side Jack kicked him.

Once she'd tucked Owen up on the sofa Gwen left. She'd managed to jam the inner garage door open and there was a noticeable draft. Of course if anyone managed to open the outer door, they could walk right in. Ianto didn't think that was a problem worth worrying about, a perception filter protected the locked outer door unless it was turned off for deliveries. The thought of fresh air flooding the Hub and washing away all traces of that scary venom was worth the vague risk. It did upset the air conditioning though.

Checking that Jack was happy to be alone for a short time he went down to the den and showered. He'd dealt with all sorts of bodily fluids in the last twenty four hours and he really needed to feel clean again. He had his own toothbrush down there and Jack had piles of disposable razors. Ratting through Jack's drawers he borrowed boxers, a tee shirt and Jack's robe, went out and put his clothes into the washer. He was surprised to find a load of towels and a duvet cover in the drier. It must have been Jack. He remembered the disinfectant smell of yesterday morning, what had Jack been cleaning and why exactly? The nightmares? He'd been having nightmares and today he'd vomited as he woke up. Owen had known that was going to happen. How?

It didn't he decided in the end really matter. What mattered was to make sure these nightmares didn't happen again. He stopped and tucked a blanket around Owen. And he amended his list of what mattered, most important was to get everyone well again. Owen too looked different in sleep, face slack, the belligerent larrikin was more like a small boy.

Ianto went back to Jack, slipped out of the robe and under the covers. Jack moved to accommodate him, reached out and held his hand. 'How come you get to wear my underwear while I'm naked?' he murmured quietly.

'Oh, sorry, do you want some clothes on?'

'Not right now.' He stroked his bruised cheek. 'Thank you for looking after me.' Then he slapped him.

'Ow,' Ianto started in surprise. 'What?'

'That's for sedating me. Don't ever drug me again without my knowledge. Okay?'

'No.'

'What?' Jack's voice had that dangerous edge.

'No, it is not okay.' He turned until they were nearly nose to nose. 'I will always do what I think is best for you Jack Harkness, and sometimes you might not like it. You needed to rest, you were in agony. Sedation was the right thing to do.'

'And look how that turned out.'

'That wasn't the sedative. That was the frog goo. You shouldn't have dreamed.' He stroked Jack's hair. 'I'm sorry.'

'Not sorry you drugged me' Jack muttered.

'No.'

'All right,' Jack conceded. 'But promise me Ianto, please, don't let Owen go off half cocked on this anti retcon thing. Don't let him have a go at it on me. Not without my say so.'

'You're not happy with that idea?'

'Of course not!' He shifted uncomfortably. 'I obviously thought really hard about taking the retcon, put a lot of effort into doing it right, making sure I'd forget. I've said I thought I'd go mad if I didn't get rid of those thoughts, why on earth would I want to have it all brought back?'

Ianto placed his hands on his chest. 'Easy.'

'My "dream" this morning,' Ianto could hear the inverted commas on the word dream. 'Being hung, and reviving to be hung again. Was that in the transcript?'

'Yes,' Ianto said reluctantly. 'They kept it up for several days.'

Jack shuddered. 'If that had happened to you, would you want to remember it?

Jack was barely holding himself together Ianto realised. Tears weren't far away. Even so he couldn't leave it alone. 'No I wouldn't, of course not.' He stroked his hands against Jack's skin, keeping to the uninjured side of his chest. 'And I don't want you to have to remember it either. But, what Owen said about flashbacks and triggering a total recall. Jack, you would go mad.'

'It hasn't happened yet.'

'No, but you said yourself, what pulled you back this morning was because your ear was sore, and that wasn't supposed to be happening in the other place. You can't rely on something like that pulling you out again.'

'What happened this morning happened because of the frog goo. Keep that stuff away and I should be fine.'

That did seem to make sense. 'All right, Ianto said tiredly. 'I promise you that we won't do anything until everyone is well and we've had a chance to do some research. All of us. Will that do for now. I am so tired sir, please…'

'Sorry. You've probably been up all night. I'm just…'

'Hurt and frightened?'

'Yeah.' Ianto knew he was immensely privileged, that Jack wouldn't share like this, wouldn't let himself be seen to be vulnerable with anyone else. 'Yes. Yes that's right. I'm sorry.' They clung together. 'Forget about me. I'm all right.' The tears that Jack had been holding started to fall. 'Get some sleep.'

Ianto kissed his forehead and wrapped himself around him as best he could without hurting him. He wanted to give comfort, he wanted to say everything would be all right, but he was too tired. All he could do was hold him tight as they both slid into sleep.

Jack woke up needing to pee. He really quite desperately needed to pee but he wasn't quite sure what he could do about it. Ianto was sound asleep pressed tight against his left side and the bed wasn't big enough for two, it would be hard to move without disturbing him. Ianto on his left meant that if he was going to get up he'd have to go right and that was the sore side. Getting up wouldn't be easy. The biggest problem however was that he was tied to the bed by the IV which was on a stand to his left. It wouldn't give him room to get up and he couldn't reach it from the bed. Knowing that what he was going to do would piss everyone off he decided that not wetting the bed or bursting his bladder would piss them off even more. He peeled up the tape holding the rubber needle thingy in his arm and pulled the IV out. He watched in fascination as dark red blood welled out of the wound before deciding Ianto would be really annoyed if he bled on him. Awkwardly reaching over his sleeping lover he snagged a tissue from a box on the trolley and used it to staunch the bleeding.

Right first problem dealt to.

Now he had to get up.

Pulling back the duvet he shuffled himself to the side of the mattress. Ianto made a small moaning noise and his hand reached out searching for him. Jack tucked the hand back under the covers and allowed himself a brief moment of pleasure watching Ianto sleep. Ianto relaxed and vulnerable in sleep made Jack feel quite weak with love and gratitude. Heaven knows Ianto had so many reasons not to trust him, but trust him and love him he did, the proof was right there in his ability to sleep beside him.

Feeling a little teary he levered himself into a sitting position and eased his legs off the mattress. He fought back a hiss of pain as the wounds down his side pulled, holding his arm close to his side. He got his feet down to the cold floor and leaned back against the bed, buttocks firmly planted on the mattress, very reluctant to try standing up without the support. But on this angle his bladder was screaming for relief. He was very close to one of the mortuary cupboards and gave passing consideration to opening the door and pissing in that. A moment's thought suggested the aftermath when Owen discovered the deed wouldn't be worth it.

Carefully he planted his feet on the floor and pushed off the bed. He was woozy and probably couldn't blame the sedation any more; it must be his blood pressure responding to standing up for the first time in however long. He had no idea what the time was. There were no clocks he could see down here and he didn't have his watch.

Walking carefully around the bed he picked up his robe from where Ianto had placed it over the back of a chair and very carefully pulled it over the dressings on his right arm before fighting his other arm into it. God that was awkward.

Everything was awkward. It wasn't so much that walking and moving hurt, it was more that his body seemed slightly disconnected from his normal control mechanisms. He wasn't used to being injured like this. He knew what to expect from fatal injuries, a lingering ghost of pain from whatever had killed him, sometimes a weakness that could last up to a few hours, often a chill and a feeling of disconnection with the world, but he was always able to get past that if he had to. This felt like all of those feelings but more so and it wasn't going away in a hurry. Shuffling through the Hub he decided the mens room was easier to reach than his own bathroom. He hardly ever ended up injured in such a way that he had to take time to heal and he didn't like it one little bit. Although, he thought guiltily, he was one hell of a lot better off than Tosh who would probably need months of painful treatment and therapy. He doubted that she would be getting out of bed any time soon. The thought made him feel sick.

At the urinal in the chilly mens room he took an awkward left handed grip and let it rip. It was like a dam bursting and for a moment the release was nearly orgasmic. When it was finally over he felt quite light headed. He eyed the room with distaste and left hurriedly. He hated that room, it reminded him too much of a certain mens room in the London Underground where he had once had an embarrassing and unpleasant encounter and he didn't like being reminded of that every time he needed to pee. That was why he usually swung down to his own little bathroom when he needed to go.

So that was one unpleasant memory he was living with all the time. Could he live with some more?

He decided to find some clothes and was brought up short on the path to his room by the sight of Owen curled sound asleep on the sofa. He'd forgotten about him. He stood looking down at him, feeling strangely tender towards the younger man, his bandaged hands poking out of the blankets. Owen too was probably in for a long recovery. He hadn't seen the state of his hands but from what he'd heard as they bandaged him, it must be pretty bad. He would make sure they both got the best care possible. Owen wouldn't like it but he probably shouldn't be doctoring himself in this sort of situation. Jack would order him to see a doctor.

He made it to his office and sat on the chair contemplating the hole in the floor. If he wanted some clothes he had to get down there. What had possessed him to make his room in the bloody bunker in the first place? That was one memory that was lost to time. Drawing a deep breath he swung himself down the hole and ended up flopped on his bed shrieking with pain. 'Ow, ow fuck. Fucking mother fuck.'

He was quite content to lie there catching his breath, would actually have quite liked to have stayed there, might even have gone to sleep again, except that his duvet and pillows were on the other bed out in the morgue, tucked up around Ianto. This bed was too cold.

He levered himself upright again and went through the complicated process of trying to thread his limbs through sleeves and leg holes. He couldn't manage a tee shirt but an open necked shirt was okay. The buttons were difficult though. The flies on his trousers were really hard too. He left off the braces. Without an undershirt he felt cold so he added a waistcoat over the shirt and then, acting on a whim, felt around in the bottom of a drawer and pulled out an old woollen cardigan and carefully pulled it on. Just holding the garment brought tears to his eyes and he curled up on the bed, stroking the wool, lost in the memories. It had been a soft blue colour once, to match his eyes, but it had faded with time and was now nearly grey. He could still picture the exact colour it had been. Estelle had knitted it for him, back in the war, saving up her clothing coupons to buy the wool. She had spent long winter evenings knitting while they shared stories, ideas and laughter in front of the fire in the little cottage he'd found for her in the country. She had made the cardigan with such love and he still felt that every time he put it on. She told him when she gave it to him, when she'd finished sewing it up and he had the first proud try on, that she had knitted a piece of her hair into it and that meant that he was hers forever.

Crying he remembered the wonderful woman he had betrayed. He'd known he couldn't stay with her, should never have let her think he could. It hadn't been fair. He'd lived with that guilt for a long time now but that was now joined with his guilt and pain over her death. There went some more ugly memories.

God, what was he to do? He sniffed, there was no way he was going to wipe his nose on his sleeve. 'Should he really undo the retcon if Owen could find a way to make it happen? He already had so many bad memories and would obviously have many many more over the centuries, what did this other load of them matter in the scheme of things? Yet surely he would have thought of that when deciding to take retcon. So didn't that mean that this lot were exceptionally bad?

He didn't know. He didn't know.

He was feeling panicked. He had to get out of here. He needed to go back up the hill to the spring. He seemed to be able to think there. Ianto wouldn't be pleased but too bad. He needed to feel some peace.

Very laboriously he got himself back up the ladder to his office. It was fairly obvious he wasn't going to be able to drive. Looking over the edge of the balcony he could see that both Ianto and Owen were still asleep. The clock on his desk said twenty five past three. He assumed that was afternoon and not night time. He picked up the phone and called a minicab, asked it to collect him from the tourist office in fifteen minutes. He would go to the spring.

He found his wallet and shoved it in his pocket, then went looking for his coat. To his surprise it was not on its hook but in a plastic bag beside the office door. What the hell was someone doing treating it like that? Didn't they know what this coat meant to him? He yanked it out and nearly dropped it in surprise. It was crusted with filth. It was greasy, dirty and smelt really bad. There was blood on the collar and down the right shoulder. His ear twitched in pain as he realised where that blood must have come from. No wonder his ear hurt, though he still couldn't figure out quite what had happened to cause the injury. He shoved the coat back in the bag with a shudder of distaste. What would happen if Ianto couldn't get it cleaned? He'd had it so long, it had become his trademark. The coat had become an entity in itself, had meaning beyond just an outer garment. The coat shouted look at me, I'm Captain Jack. He needed that coat.

But he couldn't wear it now. The cardigan would have to do. He hoped it wasn't too cold outside because there was no way he was going back down the hatch for his bomber jacket.

Checking that his nursemaids were still asleep he let himself out of the cog door and caught the lift up to the surface to wait for his cab. All was going fine until he caught his toe going through the door into the tourist office. The floor surface changed, he'd never noticed the difference before, ancient stone floor changing to ancient linoleum, but it was enough to catch him and he staggered to the right. Automatically trying to protect his arm he twisted and his injured ear crashed into the doorframe. The world exploded in pain.

He sat on the floor fighting for breath. This had to be one of the most painful things that had ever happened to him. For a while he could do nothing but gasp, incapable even of movement or thought. Slowly things settled and he reached up to check the bandage, a movement so like checking his head set that he finally realised what had hurt him so badly. The headset had burned into his ear. He was incredibly lucky it hadn't burned right through to his brain.

He nearly decided to go back downstairs, get someone to shoot him full of morphine and get back into bed. That would be the sensible thing to do but from where he was sitting he could see blue sky through the window in the front of the shop. He desperately wanted to get out. Shakily getting to his feet he pulled his shirt out of his pants and used the hem to wipe the tears from his face. He decided he would go out and sit in the Plas for a while and breathe some fresh air. That would be enough for now.

He was just opening the door when the taxi drew up. Damn. He'd just pay the guy off and tell him to go away. But as the car stopped he realised it was the dumpy little man who had brought him home from his run the other day, and the man recognised him too. To his surprise the driver shot out of his seat and raced over to take his arm. 'Bloody Christ in hell what happened to you?' the man asked. He led Jack over to the car, his grip firm on his arm and opened the door for him. 'When I heard the pick up address I thought it might be you.' He peered at him. 'Fuck, did some of those gay bashers have a go at you?' He lowered him into the seat.

'No,' Jack said shakily, pleased to be helped. Hang on. No, this wasn't what he was going to do. 'I got hurt at work.'

The guy buckled him in. 'I'm taking you home then am I? You look like you'd be much better off lying down.' Muttering the driver got into the seat and started the engine.

'I have been lying down,' he told him. 'I want to go out. Take me to the park on the hill above where you picked me up the first time.'

'What? What do you want to go there for?'

'That's where I want to go. Can you just take me please?'

'Does your boyfriend know you're out?'

'He fell asleep. Don't you go in there!' when the driver looked like he was going to get out of the car and go back to the shop.

'All right. All right.' He put the car in gear and moved off peering over his shoulder at him the whole time. 'You sure you got enough clothes on to be out? Don't get me wrong, I got nothing against the way you're dressed but it just doesn't look warm enough for the weather. You seem to make a habit of being out without dressing for the conditions.'

'I'll be fine.'

'You look dreadful.'

'I suppose I do.' He leaned back into the seat. 'Could you stop talking now please.'

'Fine.'

There was silence for only about two heat beats.

'Do you live in there then? Behind the shop?'

'No. There's a room at the back with a sofa. We were having a rest and my friend fell asleep.' An easy lie.

'Right. He's been looking after you hasn't he? Then he has to go to work and he doesn't trust you to be left alone so he takes you too. Poor bastard, no wonder he was tired. You sure you don't want me to take you home?'

'Please be quiet.'

'There's a spring in that park, supposed to have magic powers.'

'I know. Look, if you don't shut up I won't pay you.'

That seemed to work.


	10. Chapter 10

Nightmares 10

You liked the cab driver - thanks. So did I. We get a little bit more of him.

A bit more Owen whumping, poor Tosh, and some witches.

Thanks to the people reviewing.

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Ianto woke up because he could hear his phone ring. The noise intruded into his sleep as if it was a long way off. When he woke up everything was just wrong. The phone was a long way off. Where was his phone? And what was really wrong - Jack wasn't in the bed. He sat up with a gasp. Where the bloody hell was Jack?!

Why was he wet? Had one of them wet the bed? Jack?

No.

The phone was still ringing. That's right he'd left it in Jack's office when he'd emptied his pockets to wash his clothes.

He frantically tried to look in all directions. 'Jack!'

No answer.

Ew. He discovered why the bed was wet. The IV canula, sticky tape attached was dripping onto the sheet. Jack had pulled out his IV but he hadn't turned it off. Yuck.

The phone stopped.

And that IV's been dripping into the bed for quite some time.

Shit.

'Jack!' He tried shouting again but knew it was useless. He could just feel that Jack wasn't anywhere in the Hub. What the fuck was the bloody idiot doing? What time was it? Christ, what if it had been him on the phone? Sprinting up to the office he nearly fell over Owen who was groggily getting to his feet. 'Jack's gone,' he shouted as he shot past. 'My cell phone was ringing.'

He snatched the phone off Jack's desk. One missed call, number he didn't recognise and a message from the same number. He dialled the message service, waited impatiently for the tinny voice to do its thing. "You have **one** new message. Message received at three fifty nine pm," Then, "Er hello there Ianto Jones." Of course his message simply said. 'Hello this is Ianto Jones. Leave a message.' "My name is Ian Mc Farlane, I'm with Cardiff Cabs. You know, call us anytime, we'll get you there on time.

"I know I shouldn't be making this call. I mean client confidentiality is a big thing with our company but I just thought you might want to know that your American poofta boyfriend is out and about and he really looks like he shouldn't be. I still had your number from when I rang you the other day to see if you'd pay for Mr Shiny Teeth when he'd been jogging and I just felt I ought to ring you now.

"He says you went to sleep, you're probably still asleep and that's why you haven't answered the phone. He said he needed to get out and go somewhere to think, but I figure that the state he's in you're probably going to wake up and have a cow when you can't find him. I mean he looks like a refuge from a war or an extra in a disaster movie. His clothes don't help, why is he dressed in his granddad's cast offs do you know? But the fact is he is ghost white and you can tell he is really sore and he really isn't wearing enough clothes. There's a freezing wind out here today. Anyways, I left him at the park on top of Conway Hill about five minutes ago. I wanted to stay and wait for him but he told me to go.

"I figure Mr Ianto Jones, that when you get this message you should be getting yourself up there as quick as you can.

"Oh, if you need me to pick you up and take you there then ring me back on this number."

'FUCK!'

'Was that Jack?' Owen asked.

'Not quite. Here, press one.' He threw the phone at Owen who of course couldn't catch it. It skitted out the door and stopped, fortunately, just before the edge of the grill. 'Oh sorry.' He picked it up, checked it was still working, pressed one and gave it to Owen. 'I've got no bloody clothes to wear. They're in the washer. Fuck!' He shot down to Jack's room, he'd have to wear more than just his underwear. He hadn't restocked his spare clothes cupboard here since getting covered in a some nasty alien amniotic fluid two weeks ago.

Jack did own some jeans. They were incredibly dense fabric and not in a modern style. He wondered if they might actually be Levis originals, weird though that was. What mattered was that they did fit him, sort of. Nothing like a hoody or an anorak though. He pulled on one of the trademark blue shirts and the leather bomber jacket that was hanging in the closet. It would do. Christ knew what he looked like.

Owen was sitting on the desk. He sniggered when he saw him. 'Not quite your look Teaboy.'

'Shut it. Grab your kit. Let's go find him.' He was really pissed off. 'Then I really am going to kill him this time.'

'Stop panicking. We know where he is and he's not in any danger. This is like a Torchwood conspiracy to stop me getting to Tosh isn't it? First you drug me, now Jack fucking Harkness goes AWOL.' He stood up carefully. 'Can you give me another shot before we go?'

'Okay.'

'Don't ask me if I'm all right. I'm not.' Owen's eyes were blazing as Ianto filled the syringe. 'I know I'm not but I haven't got anytime to do anything about it. Especially when my bloody patient takes it into his head to take off into the sodding wild blue yonder. Just give me a shot and make up some amipicillin and have some fun sticking that in my arse as well. I think I've got an infection.'

Ianto decided the best thing to do was to keep his mouth shut and do as he was told. He was worried though.

He managed to remember to throw his clothes in the drier though before they left.

When they went up to the garage they found that Gwen had wedged an ancient filing cabinet under the roll down door then wedged a hammer into the latch at the bottom so that the sensors thought the door was closed. 'Shall we leave it like that?' Owen asked.

'Can't see why not for now. We need as much fresh air as we can get and this is the easiest way to do it.'

'Right,' Owen said, 'I think you should drive this time. Good practise for you.'

Ianto gave him a look because he knew it was expected. 'You know where this place is, this magic spring?' The outer door rolled down behind them as they turned into the street.

'Yeah, I picked him up there yesterday morning?'

'Were you going to tell me about his nightmares?'

'No. Of course not. Patient doctor confidentiality.'

'Bullshit. Jack is hardly your patient. Not really. You're not here to be his doctor, that isn't your job.'

'Of course it is. Jesus Ianto if there was something wrong with you I'd look after you and I wouldn't tell Jack or any of the others either. I'm a doctor. It's what I am first and foremost. I can't not be a doctor. Just because I autopsy bloody aliens and dead things doesn't mean I can't look after living people.' He gave a small gasp as Ianto took a corner fast and bumped him against the door. 'Can we give it a rest for now. I'm not in the mood.'

'Sorry.' He looked across to where Owen was hunched in his seat. 'Look Owen, don't take this the wrong way, but you ought to be in hospital yourself. You look like shit.'

Owen blazed at him. 'I fucking know that okay. I know.' He sighed. 'When we've got Jack and I've got back and seen Tosh, then yes, maybe I'll take myself off to Emergency and let them have a go at me. It will be a bit hard to explain why it's taken me so long to get seen, but yes I know I need more help than what I can do for myself.' Miserably he held his bandaged hands up. 'I've got full thickness burns on my left hand with I don't know how much nerve damage to go with it. I've got nearly as much damage on the right. And now I think the whole lot is infected because I feel like crap. I'll be lucky if I get any use back in my left hand at all and I really don't know if I'll be out of hospital before next Christmas. So yes Ianto, I fucking know.

'And you know what,' he rounded on him, 'all I can think of is Tosh.' He held up his hands, 'this is a level of pain like you wouldn't believe and she's got this and it's not just her hands it's her face. Her face. I can't believe feeling like this over my face. Do you get that. She's going to have scars on her face. For the rest of her life.' Owen was crying now. 'And bloody Jack,' he said softly as Ianto looked at him appalled. 'With his fucking accelerated healing, by the end of the week he'll be completely recovered. He'll be fine. Yet here I am, out looking for the fucker, whose fault this all is by the way, instead of being with Toshiko who is never going to be all right again.' He turned and stared out the window, breathing hard.

Ianto didn't know what to do, what to say. He'd been so wrapped up in looking after Jack he hadn't thought. He had done it because he wanted to help but it had still seemed a bit of fun to trick Owen with the sedation. He knew he was hurt and that his hands were bad, the implications however, for him and especially for Tosh just hadn't sunk in. 'Owen, I am so sorry.'

'Of course you are.' Owen's voice was choked. 'But it doesn't help. Does it?' He sat up a bit. 'It's just up there somewhere. Take that road off the roundabout and head up the hill.'

'I'll take you straight to the hospital after we've picked up Jack.'

'Thanks.'

They pulled up at a turning bay by a white picket fence. On the other side of fence was a playground. Sitting on a swing was Jack. Spreading his arms wide as if to say look at me, he had a huge beaming smile on his face. 'Will you fucking look at that,' said Owen bitterly. 'His fucking accelerated healing's set in and he's bloody cured.'

There was a messy pile of dressings and bandages on the ground beside him and the right side of his face showed fresh pink newly healed skin. 'Ianto,' Jack said, reaching out for them. The inflection on his name made Ianto weak at the knees. 'Owen.'

It obviously didn't have the same effect on Owen. 'Sometimes I just want to punch those perfect teeth in,' he growled as they walked towards him

'I knew you'd come. Come here,' Jack took Ianto's hand, reached out for Owen, put an arm around him. 'I have something wonderful to show you.' He was positively euphoric. Ianto realised why he looked a little odd. His skin might have healed but he was missing his right eyebrow, it didn't appear to have regenerated. It was definitely a strange look.

'Jack, why are you wet?' Ianto asked. 'You're soaking.'

'Come here,' he gave an excited smile and led them up the hill and into the trees. Owen rolled his eyes at Ianto behind Jack's back. Ianto felt a frisson of … something as they entered the dark wood. He could feel something here in this place. Something odd. A runnel of water trickled out of a small dark pool. Jack dropped to his knees and pulled Ianto down beside him onto the muddy ground. Reverently he placed his hand, his cured hand Ianto noticed now, into the water. Then he reached up and traced water across Ianto's forehead, ran the water down his nose, touched his chin and then placed his wet palm on his bruised cheek.

Ianto's eyes widened with surprise. The water was cool on his forehead and nose, but on his cheek, under Jack's hand it seemed to fizz. The feeling moved in, caressed his cheek, spread through the bone, and then was gone.

He gave a gasp. Jack moved his hand away, gave him that smile again and he reached his own hand up to feel. There was no pain. He pressed the cheek bone, felt across his face, pressed it hard, but there was no pain. The bruise was gone. 'What?'

Jack was grinning. 'It's a magic spring. There is rift energy here, well I think it's the rift, but it's a good energy. And … it heals!'

Owen suddenly sat down. 'You're joking.' He looked scared.

'Here,' Jack addressed him gently. 'Come closer.'

Owen inched closer. He was pale.

'It's all right.' Jack said. 'You'll be all right.'

'What if it doesn't work for me? I don't believe in witchcraft and stuff like that.'

'It will. Here.' Jack placed his hand back in the water, anointed Owen with what looked to Ianto something awfully like the sign of the cross. 'Feel it Owen. Can you feel it?' Owen was making the panting noise that he made when seriously stressed. He was white. He gave a brief nod. Jack took his right wrist and lowered the bandaged hand into the pool.

'Ohhh.' He was still panting. His eyes shut. 'Ohh God. Oh God' Jack held on to him. He was trembling violently.

He suddenly sat back, lifting his hand up, the soggy bandages falling off as he flexed his fingers. A look of wonder spread across his face. 'My God, it worked. It worked.' he looked at Jack. 'My other hand?'

Jack's smile was so wide it nearly split his face. 'Go ahead. It will work.'

Kneeling Owen placed his other hand in the dark water. He gave a sob. Jack knelt behind him and wrapped his arms around him as he started to cry.

Ten minutes later they were back in the SUV, the engine on and the heater going. Owen's tear stained face was split by a wide mouthed smile. He and Jack were in the front huddled over the heating vents. They were both wet and cold and euphorically happy. Jack in particular was drenched, he'd needed to bathe wounds over most of his body. That ancient cardigan was wringing wet, and everything seemed hilariously funny. Ianto felt an unfamiliar joy bursting out of him. They were well. They were healed. Everyone would be okay. Owen sat there flexing his fingers, looking at the pink new skin. 'So now,' he said, 'we have to bust Tosh out of hospital.'

They dropped Owen at the hospital. His job was to rendezvous with Gwen and find out routines, routes and other information necessary to decide on the best way to steal Toshiko away. Jack and Ianto went back to the Hub. They needed to work on the cover up and, they'd had a heated argument about it, keeping their options open just in case it didn't work and they needed to get her back in to care.

Jack could not believe that Ianto could even entertain the idea that the spring might not work its magic again. 'Look at me,' he said, getting right in Ianto's face. 'Christ look at me Yan. You know what I was like this morning. I'm healed for Christ sake.'

Ianto was trying to work his way through the hospital computer system and really didn't need a hyped up Jack in his face. 'That's as may be sir, but you do have accelerated healing and that may have had some influence on the matter.'

'What about Owen?' Jack wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled into his neck. He caressed his check. 'What about you?'

'I know sir. It seems pretty conclusive but I just want to be sure that we don't burn out boats before we've actually seen the proof of the pudding, to mix metaphors.' He removed the hand that was fondling his crotch. 'Please don't do that Jack.'

'Come on Yan.' God that voice. It was all he could do not to press back against him. He turned. 'Let's just wait until Tosh is well again too then shall we. Then we can relax. Okay?'

'God,' Jack gave a frustrated moan. The hands on his hips tried to pull him closer. 'I feel so… zingy. Please? Just a quick one?'

'Zingy?' He slapped the hand. 'I said don't do that.'

'Come on. I need a shower, come with me.'

'Sorry Jack,' he looked at his lopsided face. 'You go do what you need to do. I need to work. But after,' he leant in and kissed the missing eyebrow, 'When Tosh is feeling zingy too, I promise I'll make it up to you.'

When Jack emerged from his shower he still had a shit eating grin on his face but he could at least keep his hands to himself.

'Owen called,' Ianto told him. 'He's given me a list of things he wants in his kit to keep Tosh comfortable until we can get her to the spring.' And in case it doesn't work was the thought that had been in both their minds. He handed Jack the list. 'Can you sort it please? Owen says we need to be ready about 8.30. There is a lull then after they've settled people for the night but before they start two hourly cares at ten.'

'Okay.' Jack leant in and gave him a gentle kiss. 'Thank you.'

'What for?'

'For caring.'

Ianto blushed. 'Did you … erm… you know?' He waved his hands vaguely in the direction of Jack's crotch.

Jack laughed, suggestively grabbing his package. 'Yeah, I did. Sorry lover but I just couldn't wait.'

'That's all right. If you're so "zingy" I'm sure you'll manage again later.'

'Oh yeah!'

Breaking Tosh out went ridiculously smoothly. Owen had prepped her as soon as the nurses left her for the night. He removed her IV, medicated and sedated her to minimise the discomfort of movement. Gwen distracted the nurse on the desk allowing Jack to slip into the room. He was quite discomforted to see her face completely covered with a soft mask like bandage. It was some how much more gruesome than his own half covered face had been. He said hello quietly. She couldn't speak easily but she knew he was there, he could tell from her pain filled eyes. Jack checked with her, had Owen explained? Did she want to go with them?

'Yes,' she managed to say.

Owen and Jack lifted her onto a gurney and wheeled her out and into the service lift. Ianto was waiting with the SUV at the loading bay. A hospital at that time of night was a quiet place.

They carried her out and Owen climbed in the back of the car with her. She was making small noises of distress and Owen gently tried to soothe her.

As soon as Jack shut the car doors Ianto was pulling away, heading for the hill and the magic spring. He drove incredibly gently. Gwen followed in her car.

When they pulled into the turnaround at the top of the hill they got a surprise. There were lights flickering under the trees. There was someone here. 'Shit,' the three men said unanimously. 'Wait here,' Jack said sliding out of the car. 'I'll go see what's happening.'

He made his way silently up towards the lights. There was a quiet chanting coming from inside the copse. Moving bodies threw strange shadows on the trees as he got close enough to see a path of candles laid along the ground. A group of people, women, he counted thirteen of them were moving in a circle, stepping slowly anticlockwise in time to their chant. 'Oh bloody hell, it's a witches' convention.'

Suddenly the chanting stopped. The path of candles ran alongside the little creek, ending in a tear drop shape that encompassed the pool. Coming along the path towards him as if she had been expecting him was a middle aged woman in flowing robes. As she got closer it came as no surprise to recognise the "witch" from the café at the bottom of the hill. He could also see enough to tell that her robes were made from bed sheets.

He held up his hands. 'I'm sorry,' he apologised. 'I didn't mean to disturb you.' He had to get rid of them. He couldn't keep Tosh waiting.

The woman picked up a candle and held it up examining him. 'Oh,' she said, 'it's you.' She reached up a hand and ran a finger across the tender new skin of his jaw. 'It has already worked for you, I can see that. So why are you here now?'

'I was healed,' he said. She obviously knew that. 'Why are you here?'

'We…' she seemed a little confused in how to explain herself. Jack knew that feeling. How to explain what to most people was unexplainable. 'We knew someone had used the spring for healing. We were… surprised. Most people who find the spring need a little … help… in making it work.' She held the candle closer to his face and he feared for his other eyebrow. She smiled at him. 'You are a strange one aren't you? I felt that when I met you the other day. But you weren't injured then?'

'Not physically, no.'

'Why are you here now?'

'My friend, my colleague, she got burnt too. I've brought her here to heal her.'

'You're very arrogant to think the spring will heal just because you want it to.'

'You mean it won't?' he asked with a shot of panic.

'I didn't say that. The lady of the water doesn't always share her services. She chooses who to help.'

'I didn't know that,' Jack said thinking frantically, 'but I can feel her here. How can I know if she will help my friend?'

'Has she been of service to you?'

'Immensely.'

'And you can feel her?'

'I feel something here. A sense of calm and peace. And a clarity. Of mind,' he added.

She placed the palm of her hand over the fresh tingly new skin on his face, cupping his jaw. Her hand was cool and dry. Jack felt something stir deep in his mind. The panic, fear and pain of the last few days rushed past his consciousness and he gasped, would have fallen except for her other hand firmly holding his arm. Then it was gone, replaced with a strange lightness and a feeling of well being.

She held him a moment more, both hands firm on his arms until he was steady again, then she stepped back leaving him feeling bereft. She smiled a little sadly. 'You really are different.' She moved backward away from him along the lighted path. 'Bring your friend.'

Jack bounded back down the track to the car park. Gwen's car was only just pulling to a stop. He'd been gone moments, no longer. 'Bring Tosh,' he yelled to Owen. 'They're the keepers of the spirit of this place. They'll help us.'

Owen carried her while the others flanked him in formation, Jack at his right, Gwen on his left and Ianto in his place beside Jack. As they entered the trees the women came forward and took Tosh from Owen's arms. He looked wide eyed at Jack who nodded, he handed her over. Heavily sedated she barely stirred.

The chant grew in volume, became a sound that included the wind, the moon, the women and the water of the spring. Jack found himself visualising water flowing clear and pure through the earth, the veins of the earth, whirling and swirling, collecting the energy of the stones and of the earth herself. Ianto's hand found its way into his.

Tosh was laid gently on a bed of fallen leaves, as the women danced and weaved - complicated patterns of birth and death and renewal sung to the night and the trees. The peaty smell of the forest invaded his head to be washed away by crystal water as the leading lady took up the cup and dipped it in the spring. Jack found himself along with his team and the twelve women in a circle. In the centre of the circle was the spring and Tosh on the ground beside it. The cup was held to his lips and he drank before it was offered to Owen and Gwen and around the circle of women and back to Ianto at his side. The chanting increased in tempo invoking circles and spirals reaching out through the galaxy as the head woman dipped the cup again and this time poured the water over Tosh. The woman danced and dipped and whorled and poured water, over and over, dipping, and pouring, dancing and calling and suddenly Tosh sat up.

Jack gasped, realised they all did, all of the people there. The spell was broken and Tosh was ripping at her bandages, Owen was racing to her, the women were babbling in joy and he was left reeling, the stars of the far galaxy still seeming exceedingly close. He grasped onto the only sure and constant thing in the maelstrom, Ianto's hand.

'Tosh,' Owen was calling. 'Tosh, are you all right? Are you healed? Has it gone?'

Gwen fell on her, wrapped her in her arms. 'I'm all right,' Tosh said in wonder. 'My God. I'm all right. The burns are gone.'

Jack watched it, heard them as if they were behind a glass wall, part of a different reality. Held on to Ianto and felt his wonder and his love for him and suddenly it was as though he were reviving from a death. He felt his heart kick start, the gasp as his lungs filled, and suddenly he were connected with the world again. He grip tightened on Ianto's hand and Ianto turned to face him, tears running down his face. 'It worked Jack.' He threw his arms around him. 'Oh thank God. It worked.'


	11. Chapter 11

Nightmares of Immortality 11 final chapter

Here we are. I've done it. Actually got it finished before I go away. And what a big baby this turned out to be. I originally thought it would be about 3 parts. Never dreamed it would be this long, it seemed a lot smaller in my head.

This final piece is a smut/angst sandwhich. Smut either end and a real angsty bit in the middle. I have used a piece nearly straight from Janiqua's wonderful story "The Interrogation Glove". I hope she doesn't mind but it fitted exactly in with what I was trying to make my story do. Her take on this was much more harrowing than my original idea and I just had to use it. Many thanks Janiqua.

I am going away on holiday now. I've got a few more ideas I may play with while I'm away. I may also just decide to read a book. I haven't done that since I started this story.

Thank you to all of you who have reviewed and shared your thoughts. Much appreciated.

Jill

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Jack drove the SUV home with Owen and Tosh making out in the back. The "zinginess" was extreme. He thought longingly of Ianto following in Gwen's car, of getting him alone. Caught Owen's eye in the mirror, a triumphant look of possession and life. He returned it, approved, pressed his hand into his crotch to keep his own arousal under control as the couple dry humped in the back seat. He wasn't sure, but he thought Owen came in his pants. This was confirmed when he got out of the car.

Back at the Hub Ianto broke out the champagne. They only had the one bottle which didn't go far between them. Jack pulled out a bottle of his best hundred year old scotch whiskey and the alcohol fuelled the fire. But hey, this had to be one of the greatest things they had ever had to celebrate.

A group hug turned into something considerably more involving and when he noticed clothing starting to be removed Jack reluctantly shut it down, bringing them all up for air. While the idea of group sex on the conference table was an absolutely wonderful thought, he had a feeling it wouldn't be good for group morale come the next morning.

He called Gwen a cab and personally walked her up to the tourist office, stopping just before the door into the office which he knew to be a dead spot on the monitors. Pressing her up against the wall he proceeded to thoroughly snog her (God they were all using that word now) with a bit of mutual groping thrown in. Breaking off before **he** came in his pants he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. 'It wouldn't worry me, you know that, God I'd love to shag you Mrs Gwen Williams, but I think your morals wouldn't be happy if you did this. Not anymore.' He gave her a gentle kiss. 'Go home and shag Rhys senseless. I'll see you in the morning.'

He stepped away, headed back just as the lift disgorged Owen and Tosh wrapped around each other. Good timing. He wondered just how much of a black spot this really was.

He charged back down the stairs shedding his upper clothing as he went to where Ianto was waiting for him. He flung him around, he couldn't wait any longer, ripped down his jeans, and with Ianto's cock in his hand took him spread eagled over the railing of the balcony. The Hub echoed to their cries.

Catching his breath, his body wrapped around Ianto who was still shuddering he realised what he'd thought was ringing in his ears was actually an alarm.

Somewhat hampered by their trousers around their ankles they moved over to a monitor to have a look. Their system that monitored the 999 emergency system had picked up key words that flagged their alarm. Jack stared at the screen. 'Damn,' he laughed. 'The pterodactyl's got out.'

Still drunk Ianto and Jack had a hilarious evening enticing Myfanwy back into the garage and down into the Hub. It was finally achieved with a bale of rabbits and some barbeque sauce. The clean up wasn't too bad either. She had only eaten three cats that 

anyone knew about and as Ianto dealt with their owners Jack thanked his lucky stars that she hadn't gotten out in daylight when there were small children about.

'I'm sure she enjoyed stretching her wings,' Ianto said, watching her swooping around the water tower in annoyance before taking herself up to her cave with every sign of a flounce.

'I'm sure she did,' Jack said nuzzling into this neck. 'What about you Ianto Jones, do you ever want to get out of here. Stretch you wings. Where would you like to go?'

Ianto leant back against him. Jack was feeling tired now, worn out from emotion, exertion, pain and lack of restful sleep. But Ianto smelt so good. Ianto turned for a kiss. 'New Zealand,' he said.

'New Zealand,' Jack laughed. He hadn't been expecting that. 'Why?'

'I want to see the All Blacks play at home. I want to cheer and wave flags for Wales when they play the All Blacks in Auckland.'

What? 'Rugby?' he finally asked. 'You're talking about rugby?' Ianto never stopped surprising him.

'Yes.' His hands were wandering up and down Jack's body making him hum. 'Yesterday morning, before you called me in and went and hurt yourself I was watching my neighbour's kids playing rugby. It was so normal. So happy. So much fun.' He shrugged, kissed Jack again. 'Doesn't matter.'

Jack laughed. 'I was thinking of other places in the universe, but New Zealand would be easier. If you want to go to New Zealand Ianto, I'll take you.' I'll do anything for you.

'You mean you'll come with me.'

'If that's the way you want to think of it. Okay. I'll come with you.'

'But not tonight yeah?' Ianto worked his hands into Jack's pants and cupped his bum. 'I've got other things I want to do tonight.'

'Oh,' Jack moaned. 'Tonight you are definitely sleeping over.'

'Hah,' Ianto shivered in his ear. 'Did you think you were going to have any say in that? Come on lover, let's find a bed.'

They made love – literally; slowly and leisurely building to a shattering climax that left them both exhausted and emotional. Jack found himself overflowing with love, nearly said it, but as usual no, he couldn't. Snuffling slightly he pulled an equally teary Ianto in close. He pulled the duvet back up over them and tucked it in close, keeping out the drafts. 'That spring water needs to be bottled. They'd make a fortune.'

'Stop talking,' Ianto put a finger on his lips. 'Need to sleep now.' He gave Jack a shove so that he rolled over then pulled him in against his chest. 'Go to sleep, I'll keep you safe. If you start to dream I'll wake you up. If you snore I'll wake you up and if you fart...' Jack felt Ianto rumble with laughter. 'God help me Jack, we have got to upgrade the air conditioning system.' He felt a kiss on the back of his neck. Moments later they were both asleep.

An immaculately turned out Ianto Jones kissed him awake and waved a coffee cup under his nose. 'God damn it Ianto.' He blinked. 'What the hell are you doing dressed already? Get out of that suit and get back into bed?'

'I'm afraid not sir. It's a quarter to nine. I though you might want to get up before the others start wondering what you're doing down here on your own.'

'Quarter to nine?' He sat up. 'It can't be. I never sleep that long.'

'You did sir. I left you as long as I thought I could.' He gave him another chaste kiss. 'You obviously needed it.' He stood up. 'Now shower. You reek.'

'Oh thanks.'

The next few days were as normal as life at Torchwood ever was. The rift woke up again and they chased five separate alien species around the city and a pissed off plesiosaur way out into the bay. There was barely time to sleep and when there was they were too exhausted for anything else. Ianto had initially been reluctant to leave Jack alone at night but both acknowledged they slept much better alone. Ianto was fairly sure he knew Jack well enough to tell that he hadn't had anymore night terrors. Jack greeted him brightly every morning and there was no tell tale odour of disinfectant. The reality was that somehow they had become shy with each other again and the idea of spending the night, the whole night was too big to contemplate right now.

They still wanted sex though. Jack and Ianto managed a quicky in the shower when Jack came back to change after his dealings with the aquatic dinosaur and Owen and Tosh were unable to keep away from each other. Ianto was pleased those two were finally being open about things, but he could do without walking in on them upsetting his quiet place in the archives. SNAFU – situation normal, all fucked up.

Ianto had organised a state of the art fume cupboard to be diverted from the chemical warfare testing facility and Owen and Tosh had had a glorious time rerouting the plumbing to make it work. It was designed to be vented, once the air was thoroughly scrubbed, to the outside through a series of large pipes. Being deep underground that wouldn't work here and it was eventually vented into one of the many disused railway tunnels that Torchwood had been built around. It was kept completely separate from their closed system air conditioning.

Once Owen was satisfied that it was working correctly and no fumes could possibly leak into the Hub, he had to have a play with his frog goo in it. Ianto was pleased to see that he kept a surreptitious watch on Jack just in case. Ianto watched Jack too and all the watching pissed Jack off and that may have been why he decided to go out in the field and personally try and attach a halter to a beast the size of a container ship, that looked like the Loch Ness monster with iridescent purple and green scales and then try to tow it out of the bay using a rubber ducky inflatable dingy.

Still, Ianto was actually quite happy with the eventual outcome of that adventure.

There was one problem. Now they had had time to process things, and especially now Owen was testing his anti-retcon compound they all felt the urge to talk about the transcript of Jack's missing time. Owen had showed Tosh, reasoning that she was the only one who didn't know and that wasn't fair. Like the others she had been appalled. They all cared about Jack, it hurt them to know that these things had happened to him; they needed to talk about it. But they couldn't say anything in front of Jack.

Jack was getting pissed off with all the conversations that stopped when he entered a room. He knew what they were talking about and he understood their need to do so, but it was driving him crazy. And wasn't that ironic.

In the end he called a meeting in the conference room. They debriefed the last few days happenings, allocated clean up duties then he stood up and moved to the door. 'Now talk about me,' he told them. 'Go on. I'm going out. I'll be out till at least four. Get it out of your systems. Discuss it thoroughly, cry if you want to.' He repressed a shudder as he thought of continual hanging, boiling in oil and any other tortures he may had endured. He looked at Owen, 'Come to a decision on what you want to recommend I do. I'll meet with you when I come back.' He swept out.

Although the subject matter was harrowing it was a relief to finally be able to discuss it. There was even a little gruesome relish in it, like discussing a good horror movie. They were each fascinated by a different aspect of Jack's story; Tosh found it amazing and wonderful that the whole earth could pull together and use the power of thought to bring down the tyrant. Ianto thought she was blocking out Jack's pain. Ianto couldn't pull himself beyond the cruelty and depravity that Jack had lived through and the strength of character that he had showed. Owen was fascinated by the gory medical details of the tortures described by Jack. Gwen however came up with the really interesting take on the missing year. 'What do you think we were doing while this was happening?'

'I suspect,' Owen said, 'that we turned up dead rather early on. There would be a snowball's chance in hell that we didn't try to do something about the situation and with the intelligence they must have had, I doubt we would have stood a chance.'

No one agreed with that possible outcome.

Owen shut them down. 'What are we going to advise Jack? Should he try to reverse the retcon? Remember, if he suffers a death like any of these, and I count forty eight 

different ways he died, it might trigger a flashback that could literally shut down his cognitive abilities.'

'And he'll go mad?'

'Yes Gwen, he'll go mad.'

'He's unlikely to have his head slowly crushed by a contraption of wires and pulleys.'

'But he might get stuck in a lift.'

'No one these days throws people to lions.'

Owen huffed, 'Come on, that one's the most likely. There are weevils.'

Ianto snorted, 'Knowing Jack he probably could get crucified,' although he actually felt anything but funny.

'Well,' Gwen said doggedly, 'I don't think there's much chance that he'll be continually drowned in an oversized fish tank.'

'But he might drown, that might be enough.'

'He did drown,' Ianto pointed out. 'Yesterday.'

'I think what with the dinosaur and all it wasn't anything like the same.'

'The sensation would have been. I gather he finds drowning rather unpleasant.'

Tosh shuddered. 'It is so distressing that you know that. That being said, obviously he didn't have a flashback. Did he?'

They all looked at Ianto. 'No,' he said. 'If he did he didn't say anything.' He thought. 'Doesn't seem likely, those flashbacks have all been so disturbing, I doubt he'd have had one without us knowing. He was quite happy yesterday afterwards. Quite zingy in fact.'

'Zingy?'

'Yes,' Ianto said deadpan. 'Zingy.'

Tosh grinned at him.

'Owen, how far have you got with the anti-retcon anyway?' Gwen wanted to know. 'Is it even safe to use? Can you control it?'

'Not yet,' he admitted, 'but I'm confident I can manage it.'

'But if you do, and he gets this all back, how is he going to cope?'

'That's the problem. We'd need to find him professional help. Make a good cover story; put him in the witness protection scheme or some such, so that although he can talk about trauma, he can't give details. A year of captivity and torture but no details. It might work.'

'Or we just retcon the shit out of the psychiatrist when we've finished with him.'

'Well there is always that. The poor bastard is unlikely to treat anyone else like Jack to suffer flashbacks himself.'

'Jack doesn't want to do it,' Ianto said.

They finally broke up, no closer to what they should recommend Jack do, but happier themselves just for talking about it.

'Yan, can I have a word?' Owen stopped him on his way out. 'Can we go somewhere private?'

Puzzled Ianto led him back into the archives, to the small area with a desk that he thought of as his office. 'What is it?' he asked with dread. He just had a feeling that this wasn't going to be good. 'No cameras here,' he added, just in case that was going to be important.

'Ianto, what's your relationship to Jack? Really?'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, I know you don't actually sleep together, as in actually spend the night together and wake up in the morning together, so what are you to each other? Are you lovers, fuck buddies, what?'

Ianto bristled. 'What's it to do with you?'

'Yan, I need to know. I need to know if you are Jack's,' he made dit dit marks in the air, '"significant other". Are you the person the doctor talks to when the patient can't talk for himself? Is that you?'

'Ah…' Ianto thought. Was he? What was he to Jack? What was Jack to him? 'I don't know,' he finally said. 'I haven't thought about it. I guess there isn't anyone else for him so I suppose…'

'You suppose. Jesus Ianto.'

'Why? What is this about?'

'Christ Yan.' The look on Owen's face was frightening. 'Jack loves you. He loves you so much that he did this for you. He did all of this for you.' He waved some pages in the air. 'And you don't know whether you love him or not?' He was angry. Ianto 

jumped as he slapped the papers down on the desk. 'You need to work out what you think. I didn't give you all the transcript. There's more. You need to read it. Then you figure out if you can make the call. Are you the person to decide if Jack needs to remember this or not?' To Ianto's chagrin there were tears in Owen's eyes. 'I'll give you some time to read it.' Swearing softly he left.

With a sense of dread Ianto picked up the sheets of paper off the desk. What had Jack done for him?

The pages were part of Owen's report, the tidied up transcript of Jack's disc. He couldn't tell where they fitted into the narrative he'd already read. Owen seemed to have written them so that they could be removed from the rest. It only took a few sentences for Ianto to realise why.

_During the year that Captain Jack Harkness was held prisoner on the Valiant he was tortured and abused. Many atrocities were practised on him and yet he managed to maintain his will to live. In his opinion the most distressing part of the year came roughly five months into his captivity. It was this incident that he so desperately wanted to forget that he decided to take retcon. Five months into The Master's domination of the world he managed to capture the Torchwood team. Harkness does not know the exact details of the capture as he was never allowed to speak to his team but understood from ship board gossip picked up later that they had been mounting either an assassination attempt on Saxon or a rescue of himself and he believes it was probably both._

_He was brought into the main board room of the ship. The Doctor was also present. Saxon announced he had a nice surprise for him and proceeded to have brought in the four Torchwood team members, Owen Harper, Gwen Cooper, Toshiko Sato and the fourth member and Harkness' lover Ianto Jones. All four were in very poor shape having been severely beaten and were barely able to stay on their feet for the time they were in the room. However the Tolcafane, an alien killing robot/race were hovering and would not let any of them move, not even to hold each other up._

_Harkness professes he was very distressed to see them but did his utmost to appear unconcerned as showing emotion greatly encouraged The Master. He announced that he didn't care for these people and told the Master to simply dispose of them. He knew that they would not leave the ship alive but was hoping to stop The Master from toying with them. The Master however decided to toy with him. He was given his own gun, with one bullet and told to choose one of the group to shoot. Taking the gun and endeavouring to hide his distress Harkness moved to stand in front of the group. He decided to shoot Jones in the head, offering him a quick and pain free death but when he stood there looking at him he was unable to do so. At his hesitation the Tolcafane attacked and Harkness died again._

Ianto had to put the paper down. He couldn't read this. He didn't want to know. He could barely breathe. He had to sit and calm himself, deliberately force the air in and out of his lungs. Jack would have shot him to save him dieing a dreadful death? It was ghastly. He wasn't sure how to take that. Jack however had obviously meant it well. Unhappily he kept reading.

_On his reviving the Torchwood team were no longer in the room. The Master told him that his hesitation had proved his love for the group and therefore they deserved special treatment with the most spectacular to be reserved for Ianto Jones._

_Later in his cell Harkness was to wonder why he had missed the chance of using that bullet to kill the Master. Even if the Tolcafane had killed him for doing so he could still have swung around and shot the Timelord. He bitterly berates himself for not having done so and ending things at least six months earlier. _

_He was returned to his cell and heard no more about his team for nearly five days by which time he was very distressed and concerned for them. He did not know whether they were alive or dead and none of his contacts he had dealings with knew anything either. He imagined many terrible things which may well have been true._

_On the afternoon of the 5__th__ day he was brought into the aircraft hanger as was normal when The Master wanted to kill him. However the other four were already there. Harkness was chained to the wall and a device fitted to hold his eyelids open so he had to watch as all four were tortured to death. Three deaths were by means that Harkness had himself suffered and knew to be prolonged and extremely painful. Owen Harper was crushed to death in the manner of a medieval stoning. Planks were laid on his body and weights added until he died. It apparently took a long time. Gwen Cooper was thrown in a large clear crate containing venomous snakes. Her death particularly distressed Harkness as her body swelled and discoloured with the venom. It also took a long time. _

Nausea rolled through Ianto's gut. He was shaking with dread. He had to smooth the pages out on the desk top to read, he couldn't hold them.

_Toshiko Sato was hung, cut down as she lost consciousness, revived and then had her abdomen slashed and her entrails removed before her heart was plucked out still beating - the traitor's death of being hung, drawn and quartered._

No!

_Harkness screamed and pleaded for mercy for the people he loved but this just seemed to amuse The Master. It was nearly twenty four hours after it first started that The Master was ready for Ianto Jones. Harkness had been calling to him, telling him he loved him, that he was sorry, but by this stage if appeared that Jones was catatonic with terror. Harkness had screamed until his vocal cords bled. Jones in the end received a quicker death, but probably the one that Harkness feared the most. Harkness was sure that The Master knew this. Jones was beheaded by a guard wearing an old style executioner's mask and using a medieval executioners axe. Once the head was removed The Master picked it up by the hair and brandished it in Harkness' face. Harkness is sure that at that stage Jones was still conscious, he describes the eyes as being bright and full of pain before going dull. _

Abruptly Ianto lurched up and vomited in the rubbish bin. Christ! Jesus Christ. His body shook. It was a long time before he could continue reading.

_This is the vision that haunts Harkness. While the death of the others affected him severely he had come to terms with it to a certain extent. He knows that in reversing the time paradox he undid the whole episode and he therefore __**did**__ manage to save them but he states that he is completely unable to look at Jones without seeing his severed head._

_He states that in the weeks following the executions he realised that he had lost every remaining thing he valued. He had held on to the thought of escaping or otherwise being one day released and being able to return home to the group. Until he saw them die he had not even realised he had somewhere to call home and a family to be with. Their loss led him to a period of utter despair. He suggests that he was suicidal but couldn't die. He invited beatings and welcomed the deaths because however briefly physical pain masked his mental pain. The loss of Jones was a particular strain as he had only recently begun to discover that he had strong romantic feelings for the man._

_A young woman, Tish Jones, Martha's sister was in charge of feeding prisoners. She eventually helped him come to see that he had more to live for; that if his mission with Torchwood was saving the earth, then he was needed in that role more than ever. It seems reading between the lines of this heartbreaking story that Tish made it her mission to save Jack._

That, thought Ianto, was the first time in his whole transcript that Owen had slipped and called him Jack.

_It must have been extremely harrowing for her._

Ianto blessed the unknown Tish.

_After returning home to a group who knew nothing of the events of what he calls The Year That Never Was Harkness decided that they should never know and kept his trauma to himself. He tried to revive his relationships with the team but they were suspicious and hurt over his unexplained absence. He desperately wanted to deepen his relationship with Ianto Jones but was unable to spend any real time with him without feelings of distress. This is the major reason he gives for taking the retcon._

_He realises the irony of finally finding a sense of place and belonging and having to loose his memories of why he realised its importance in order to be able to belong and enjoy it._

That was the end. Ianto curled into a ball and wept.

Owen gave Ianto exactly an hour and then went and found him. He was already regretting some of the things he had said. It wasn't Ianto's fault that he didn't know how Jack felt about him, and he knew better than anyone how ambivalent a relationship with a work colleague could be. Ianto had every right and loads of very good reasons not to rush into a life partnership with Jack. It was just that Owen was so disturbed by Jack's revelations on the disc that he found it hard looking at Jack objectively, treating him as though this hadn't actually happened. He'd been able to 

treat it all as a bit of graphic fiction until Jack had starting having the flashbacks and he'd been shown a glimpse, a fraction of the dreadful trauma Jack had been through. Now at least someone else knew the full story, but he really hadn't had the right to subject Ianto to it, just because he didn't have the guts to make the decision about the anti-retcon on his own.

Jack had come back. He was in his office with loads of paperwork on his desk. He caught Owen's eye and motioned him in but Owen shook his head. He headed back down to the archives carrying a blanket and a mug of tea.

Ianto was sitting on the floor, back against the wall head on his knees. As Owen had expected, he was a soggy mess. His nose wrinkled as he caught the smell of vomit and he toed the waste paper bin further down the hallway. He placed the blanket around the other man's shoulders and proffered the cup of tea. 'Here. You're always dishing out tea to cure traumas. I thought I'd return the favour.'

Ianto sniffed and rubbed his hand across his eyes. He accepted the mug and inhaled the steam. 'Thank you.'

Owen sat beside him. 'Stupid question, but are you all right?'

Ianto's mouth quirked, 'Yeah, stupid question.' He blew into the top of the mug, took an appreciative sip. 'My Mam always made us a cup of tea when things were tough.'

'Yeah,' Owen grinned. 'Mine too.'

'That is so British.'

'Yeah. Everything will be fixed by a good cup of tea.'

Ianto turned to look at him. 'Why did you look at what was on that disc? When Jack gave it to you he told you not to look at it, right?'

'Yeah, well,' Owen shrugged apologetically. 'You know me. And,' he said sternly, 'before you get on your high horse just remember, if I hadn't read it then we wouldn't have had a clue what was going on with these flashbacks.'

'I'm not sure it would have made any difference. Would it?'

'Well at least I'm aware that he's retconned out a years' worth of memories and I know how dangerous that is.'

'So you can do something about it?'

Owen looked down. 'I don't know.' He found himself fiddling with the hem of his jersey. 'I don't know what outcome would be worse, going made if something should trigger a total recall, or going mad from these memories. I think it should be your call.'

'My call?'

'Yes.'

'My call is **no**.' Ianto said it very firmly. 'Jack does not need to remember this.'

'Okay.' Owen sat there breathing hard. He had to make sure that Ianto knew what he was consenting to. 'But just think of a couple of things. What if he looses one of us? How will he respond?'

'Badly, I've not doubt,' Ianto said bluntly. 'But the rest of us will be here to help. I also don't think any of us are likely to die like that in this universe.'

'Okay. What if you die; violently? Especially if he feels he is at fault? Face it Yan, it is a possibility.'

'He is used to people dieing on him, often violently. I don't think it is worth letting him remember this death just in case of another.'

'All right, last thing. What if we all die? What if he looses us all?'

'He will one day anyway, don't forget that. And if he looses us to a violent end that he feels is his fault,' Ianto lifted a set face to him, 'then perhaps he would be better off being mad.'

Owen swallowed, nodded. 'That's your answer then.'

'Yes. Don't undo it.'

'Okay,' Owen breathed a sigh of relief. 'I'm glad you said that because I don't want to undo it either. At least not for now. The flashbacks seem to have been caused by the Tyralian venom. When I didn't know that I was panicking, I thought he was on track for a major melt down. When it looked like I could reverse the process it seemed like a good idea. Now, well I may need to review things if they do happen again. In the meantime let's leave things alone. At least if you two do start actually sleeping together you'll know of any nightmares he has.'

Ianto's mouth nearly grinned. 'And he'll know of mine.'

'Yeah well, living together is a bitch like that.' Owen stood up, offered Ianto his hand. 'Shall we go and tell him?'

'Owen, before, in the meeting, why were you pushing us as if you wanted to do it?'

'I wanted to hear your arguments, make sure.' He held out his hand, stopped them just before they entered the Hub. 'Ianto, I'm sorry you know about this. I was a coward. I was too scared to make this decision on my own. That's the only reason I shared this with you. It was very unprofessional.' He took the blanket off him and pointed him towards the bathrooms. 'Best go tidy up a bit. If we go to Jack with you looking like that he'll have a heart attack.'

Rubbing water over his face really didn't improve things. His eyes were red and swollen, his face pale and blotchy. However washing and straightening his clothes made him feel better. He joined Owen and the two of them went up to the office. Jack looked up as they came in the door. His face was set in the blank mask he used when he needed to hide his feelings, he was scared of what Owen was going to say. The mask dropped however when he spotted Ianto.

'Ianto. Fuck. What happened to you?' He had his arms around him before he could blink. In spite of his resolve to stay calm and objective he'd had too much of an emotional shock. As Jack's arms infolded him he burst into tears. The arms tightened around him, then pushed him back slightly so he could look at him. 'Yan, what's happened? What's wrong? What happened to him Owen?'

Ianto tried to pull himself together, to speak. 'It's all right Jack. I'm all right.' God, now he understood what Jack meant, about not being able to look at him with out imagining, looking at Jack now he was picturing him, chained to a wall watching them all die, seeing his head held up in front of his eyes. He swallowed, tried to smile reassuringly. 'There was more to the transcript than Owen initially showed us. He just felt the need to rectify that in my case.'

'It was pretty harrowing,' Owen said quietly.

'Why?' Jack asked Owen. 'Why keep something back?'

'Because I didn't think anyone else needed to know the full story.'

'And now?' Jack's voice sounded a warning.

'I couldn't make this decision on my own. All right? It was too hard a call. Ianto is the closest thing you've got to family. He needed to be involved.'

Jack gave a strangled snort. 'Ianto?'

Ianto wasn't sure if he was agreeing, scoffing at the idea or just wanted his opinion.

The latter seemed the easiest. He pulled away, put his hands on Jack's shoulders and stared into his eyes; eyes that were clouded with concern for him. 'You did the right thing Jack, when you took the retcon. You did the right thing. Don't undo it.'

'O…kay…' Jack's eyes searched his testing his sincerity. 'And you concur do you?' Jack asked Owen.

'Absolutely. I do. Yes.' Owen was nodding emphatically. 'Now that we know about the effects of the Tyralian venom I think we could make a drug that would reverse the effect of retcon. I do plan to get working on that and find something usable in case we need it in the future. In the meantime, after quite a bit of discussion the whole team agrees that the chances of something else causing you uncontrollable flash backs is not worth the distress it would cause you to rediscover your memories.' He gave an awkward grimace, 'And that wasn't even taking into account the extra few pages.'

'I see.' Jack pulled Ianto back into his arms. 'So I say thanks but no thanks and that's the end of it?'

'It is yes,' Owen said sincerely, 'On your part anyway. You go ahead with your life, I'll watch you of course, keep an eye out for things that might cause trouble, but I think you were right.' He ignored Jack's raised eyebrow. 'It was the venom that triggered the flashbacks and as long as we don't waft any fumes of it through the place, I think you'll be all right.'

'What about in a hundred years time?'

'Yesss. Tricky. It might be one of the things I have to hand over to the incoming medic when I retire. And you never know, I might come up with some way of making retconning safe. Or, you might be over the trauma and able to cope. You can never tell what's going to happen.'

'Okay.' Jack shrugged. 'Thank you Owen. You might as well head home now. The girls have already gone.'

'Right,' Owen turned to leave. He pulled a small envelope out of his pocket. 'Ianto,' he pressed it into his hand. 'Here. You might want this?'

Ianto took the packet. He felt the small capsule inside and grinned when he realised what it was. 'Retcon?'

'Yeah. Ironic I know, but I just thought…' He shrugged. 'It's the three hour version. It is up to you, but if you don't want to remember that, well…It gives you the option.' He put a hand on Ianto's shoulder. 'One shot only though, tonight or nothing. It would be much more complicated if you waited till tomorrow to decide to forget what you read. If you take it about six you'll loose the later half of the afternoon. That should do it.' He gave a grin. 'I'm sure Jack can help you with a cover story if you need it.' He turned to leave. 'I'll be off now.'

Jack waited, his arms still tight around Ianto until the cog door closed behind Owen. Then he stood back and used his thumbs to wipe tears from Ianto's face. He cupped his jaw in a movement so tender it caused Ianto's breath to hitch again. 'What happened Ianto?'

He shrugged, finding it hard to put things into words. 'I read the rest of the transcript.'

Jack gave the side of his head a slap.

'Ow.'

'Not that you dimwit. What happened in the transcript?'

Ianto gave a watery grin. 'Like I'm going to tell you?' He leaned back in for the hug.

'If it was that bad… I'm trying to work out what would be so bad… that Owen didn't let you see it in the first place; something so horrible that you don't even want to remember reading about it. That's pretty extreme.' Jack looked up triumphantly. 'You died didn't you?'

'Jack please.' He was so tired. He just wanted Jack to stop.

'God I know,' Jack's look of triumph turned to one of compassion. 'I saw you die, didn't I?'

'Jack, for fuck's sake.' He gave him a strong shake. 'Stop it. I can't tell you, you know that.' He broke off to kiss him. 'I can tell you this though, I realised this afternoon that I love you. I love you so much.' He kissed him again. A rather surprised Jack was a little slow to catch on.

They pulled out for air, eventually.

'You love me?' Jack's smile was a mile wide.

'Yes,' Ianto said. 'I really do.'

'Wow!' Jack's eyes were full with tears.

'You don't have to say anything. I don't expect anything, I just want you to know what I feel.' He grimaced. 'Because, when I take that pill, unfortunately I won't remember saying it. And I'm sorry,' he nearly broke down again. 'I really want to take that pill.'

Jack pulled him back into a tight embrace. They stayed there locked together, head's on each other's shoulders, hand on the other's head for a long time. Jack was trembling with strong emotion, Ianto could feel it in his bones. After a time he moved back just enough to rest their forehead's together, breathe each other's breath. 'Is that a good thing?' he asked, his lips just millimetres from Jack's.

'You love me?'

'Yes.' He kissed his nose. 'I love you. I love all of you, your perverse little ways and your annoying talent for dying while saving the world. And your kindness, and your gentleness and the way you make me feel.'

'Perverse little ways?'

'Yes. All of them.'

'Name one?'

'Changing the subject when you can't cope with an emotional subject.'

'Okay, aside from that?'

'Talking when you should be kissing.'

'Other than that?' Jack was grinning like a loon.

'Shut up.' Ianto's smile was equally wide.

They kissed, and it was the most wonderful, profound, earth shattering experience that Ianto had ever had. It was different to sex. It was as if they had melded, body and soul. It was deeply satisfying. And they didn't follow it up by ripping each other's clothes off and having it off on the desk which Ianto found a little bit surprising. He certainly wouldn't have minded. Instead, when they finally did stop to breathe, Jack sent him off to change into casual clothes and then lead him by the hand up to the SUV. They drove up towards the spring, but stopped at an old building in the shopping centre at the bottom of the hill. Jack jumped out and went in. He was back in a few minutes with a cane hamper. 'Picnic,' he announced happily.

They drove up to the spring and got out. The sun was setting over the distant bay and the city lights were coming on. It was going to get cold soon but the view was fantastic. Ianto had to admit, it was kind of romantic.

Jack opened the hamper and pulled out a bottle of wine. Hand in hand they walked up to the spring and knelt beside it. It was rapidly getting dark under the trees and Ianto couldn't help but remember the last time they had been there, with Tosh so sick and the weirdness of the witches and the healing. There was a lot of mud and trampled grass that was probably the legacy of that night.

Jack knelt and used the spring water to bless them as he had the first time Ianto was here, when Jack himself and then Owen were healed. Then to Ianto's surprise he opened the wine and poured a good glug into the water. He grinned at Ianto a little embarrassed, 'An offering for the lady of the spring, to thank her for what she did for us.'

Ianto didn't think it was ridiculous at all.

They came back out of the trees to see the last of the colour wash across the sky. It was a clear night and the sky to the west was a clear gold that washed so delicately to indigo blue above their heads. Stars were appearing.

They turned and kissed again. The kiss this time turned passionate, hands finding their way inside clothes, desperate to touch skin. 'Shit, it's too cold for this,' Jack murmured into Ianto's neck, warm hands tight on his arse inside his jeans, pulling his hips closer. 'What say we get back to the Hub? We can have our picnic there. I need you now but I'm too old to do it in a car.'

'Mutual wank?' Ianto suggested, his hand working its way into Jack's pants. He found what he was looking for and gave it a pull.

'Mmmm.' One hand left his arse and worked its way to the front, returned the favour.

Ianto jerked against him as Jack expertly ran his finger around his glans. 'Oh, quickly,' he whispered. 'Just do it.' He swiped his tongue across Jack's lips making him moan. He held Jack while Jack held him, each of them working into a rhythm. The joy of the feel of each other's cock, hot and hard in his hand. They knew each other so well now, knew how the other man liked to be brought off. But when they got to the point where they usually broke off, Ianto went to drop to his knees but Jack stopped him. 'No,' he said breathlessly. 'Together. Like this together.' Jack's free arm came around Ianto's waist, while Ianto's held Jack's bum. The rhythm picked up, the intensity rocketed up and lips locked together they ground and thrust into their lover's expert fist. Ianto moved his other hand down between Jack's buttocks, his finger finding his hole and teasing round it as the hand on Jack's cock pulled deep. Jack whimpered, pressed back on the probing finger. Ianto found it hard to concentrate as Jack expertly worked his own aching shaft, god it felt good, but he managed to work his finger into Jack's arse. He was rewarded by Jack's surging cry and the tightening of his hand that felt so good. Jack was thrusting his hips with increased urgency, thrusting forward into Ianto's fist, back onto his finger. He was making the little mewling sounds he often made just before he came and Ianto crooked his finger in just the right way.

Jack was off, jerking and juddering, his sperm cascading hot into Ianto's hand; then Ianto was coming too. His balls tightened and his body spasmed, crying out Jack's name as his own sperm coated their hands, and their pants.

They stood there, holding each other up, enjoying the afterglow, catching their breath; trying to ignore the sticky wetness.

Eventually it was Ianto who pulled away. He suspected Jack could have stayed there all night. 'Well that was kinky.'

'A little bit exhibitionist,' Jack agreed. 'Lucky no one came past walking their dog or something.'

'Or heaven forbid, coming to give their kids a ride on the swing before bed. It's this spring isn't it?'

'No,' Jack said. 'I think it's you. When I'm with you I am just so different from who I am the rest of the time.'

They walked back to the SUV. Ianto pulled out the packet of tissues that lived in the glove box. 'You know Jack. I think I can live with what I read.' He mopped himself up and passed Jack the box. 'I'm not going to take the retcon because I really don't want to forget about this.'

Jack looked at the messy tissues and giggled. 'Good.' He kissed him again. 'Now, let's get somewhere with a bed. Your place is closest. Yeah?'

'Yes.' Ianto said happily. 'You can stay the night if you like.'

Jack gave him a beaming smile. 'Thank you. I'd like that.'

END


End file.
